#and that would definitely make the events that occur towards the end of the book with the two of them much much funnier

[steevejr]

im gonna be brave and say this but moash should’ve kissed kaladin on the mouth when he gave him [spoiler redacted] in way of kings 2: words of radiance. I think in that moment he is allowed one no homo pass and everyone there would simply nod in understanding that anyone in that position would do the same. never to be addressed or brought up again.

[starryschoolgirl]

Good Husbandry

Summary -> While you view preparing for your honeymoon as finding all the hottest destinations in Honolulu for tourists, Elvis knows that he must help you, his soon-to-be virgin bride, understand all that comes with the honeymoon. What a good man he is, to give you a little hands-on lesson on what good husbandry is.

Warnings -> Lovely domestic things, innocence/purity kink, religious undertones, smut, just the tip trope, hinted breeding kink, swearing, Elvis gets a little rough, mention of RFK's assassination, the reader is overbearingly sheltered when it comes to topics like sex, cum eating, fantasies of "ruining" a girl's vagina, there's definitely some plot here I won't lie, loved writing this a little too much.

WC -> 7.3k

A/N -> This is an installation of the Baby Love AU. Find Masterlist Here!

The past few days had been a whirlwind of emotion for everyone. Elvis was doing press conferences for the NBC special he was about to start filming for, and while you usually go with him, with the recent assassination of Robert F. Kennedy, it was decided unanimously that it would be best if you were at home.

Elvis would have liked to keep you by his side, but given your family’s public connection to the Kennedys he knew that the press might behave in an uncalled for manner toward you.

It was also to be noted that he’d been very patient with you the entire week, after all you did know the man. He was a close family friend, a lot closer to your father, mother, and older brother than you. But there were still tears shed a few nights ago when it had occurred.

Most of that week you sat around the current California home, keeping the couch company like you were the prettiest of pillows as you spent most of your time on the telephone with your hysterical mother and being soothed by your childhood nanny who now watched your younger brother. You’d decided to write a letter to Ethel, she was no doubt being bombarded with phone calls from press and other family with the recent death of her husband. 

It was a rough way to start the month, it was only 6 days into June when something as tragic as that had occurred. 

You were certain things would change in regards to the guest list of your wedding just a little over a week away, for one you could understandably count on the possible absence of Ethel Kennedy and her children. Aside from her it wasn’t Elvis’ side you were worried about, because when Elvis says jump they all say “how high?”. It was your own side that worried you.

You knew it was selfish and stupid to be thinking of that at a time like this, those poor Kennedys have been through so much. But you couldn’t help the worrisome thoughts that lingered in your mind. Your parents already didn’t approve of Elvis all that much, with the influx of emotion that this event caused they might just cancel all together and then you’ll be left without anyone from your own family.

And that alone could cause an emotional storm to brew in Elvis. He always expressed his own disdain for your family, but you knew there was guilt deep down that he felt. And if he realized that he were the reason your wedding day went without family, he would be angry with you and himself. But that was only because he felt things very deeply, he was caring in that way.

So you made sure the past few days to get in as much reading as possible, so that even if your wedding doesn’t end up being the dream you hoped for, that your knowledge of your honeymoon destination would make up for it.

It had to be perfect. You had to be perfect.

"We better get up and get changed soon..."

You hummed absently at Elvis' words as your eyes continued to skim along the page.

"Wouldn't want the rest of the boys seein' ya in ya nightie"

You hummed once more at whatever he had said, much too focused on your book to pay much mind. Elvis noticed this and laughed softly as he asked,

"What are ya readin' Honey?"

You looked up from the book that you had been enthralled in for the past half-hour to see Elvis staring at you over one of his religious books, he had a crooked smile and a quirked eyebrow, his facial expression likely from the fact that you were actually reading a book.

You smiled cheekily and crawled closer to him on the bed, resting your cheek on his shoulder as you quickly card your floral bookmark in between the pages you were on before closing it and presenting it to Elvis, your fiancé.

"It's a book all about Hawaii, it has some of the best secret locations on all the islands, including Oahu"

You smiled up at him as his eyes scrolled to look over at you then at the book, a smirk playing on his lips as he did so. He set his book down on his lap to grab yours, one of his fingers tracing over the cover as he murmured honestly,

"Well Babylove, I don't think these locations are all too secret anymore considerin' the book is 7 years old"

You hummed softly at the statement. Truthfully you only picked the book off the shelf because one, it said Hawaii which is the place you and Elvis were planning to be your honeymoon destination, and secondly, it was pink.

Elvis shook his head fondly and brought a hand up to ruffle your hair, thankfully at the moment there were no rings on his fingers to pluck and pull at the strands of your hair. With that in mind you happily leaned into the touch like a cat getting its fix from its owner.

You roll your body closer, dragging one leg over Elvis' legs as if he were one of those long body pillows. You snuggled your face into his chest, feeling the silky fabric of his short ascot scarf. He'd recently begun wearing them often, you didn't mind it because you could tug him by his scarf whenever you wanted a kiss.

Your voice was soft and murmured into the fabric, "I wanna start our marriage off right, our honeymoon has to be perfect, and this book,”

You pull back for a moment to grab the book and open it to the first page. Elvis watches with an amused smile as your dainty little finger flies across the dust-colored pages to the sentence that you read aloud,

"These spots will guarantee a sweet time with that special someone"

Elvis’ voice is laced with harmless sarcasm (that you don’t quite catch) as he says,

“Oh well if the book says so, it has to be true”

You then excitedly close the book and show Elvis the back cover, where a quote from what must've been a review was laid out in bold, "Has the hottest places for America’s hottest honeymoon destination"

Elvis laughed softly. His arm wraps around your shoulder as his hand runs up and down your back, calluses grazing the delicate fabric of your satin nightie with a scratching sound before taking its rest on the curve of your ass. He explains, "Well little one, there's a bit more to honeymoons and marriage than that"

Your eyebrow quirks in the way you learned from watching Elvis' own eyebrow within the span of your relationship. It looked as if you were suspicious of Elvis, thinking he was trying to pull the wool over your eyes.

With a gentle hand Elvis removed the book from your hand and set it on the nightstand where he then set his own book on as well. You laughed softly as Elvis’ hands pulled you into your place, till you straddled his lap innocently for him to explain something,

“Well Babylove, a big part of marriage and honeymoonin’ is good husbandry.”

You go silent for a second, thinking to yourself as your fingers trace little shapes on Elvis’ chest absentmindedly. When you come to the conclusion that you’re clueless on the subject you ask,

“What’s husbandry?”

Elvis’ hands run along your sides, running up to your ribs, down to your hips, then repeating their cycle, it was in his own absentmindedness that he did it as he explained,

“Well, husbandry is kind of cultivatin’ and makin’ use of land, sorta like plantin’ a seed and takin’ care of it.”

“Like farmers do?”

“Very good girl, like farmers do. Now ya see, that comes into play within things like marriage and honeymoons. To be a farmer, the first thing ya gotta do is plant a seed, then ya get your farm goin’ and everythin’ is just dandy as long as you keep takin’ care of that seed.”

You nodded your head along to what he was saying, it made sense. But what did that have to do with your honeymoon?

“Just as that goes, to be a husband, you also gotta plant a seed. So ya see, in marriage, instead of a farmer plantin’ a seed, it’s the husband who plants the seed, and he plants it right in your petals”

You grimaced with embarrassment as you heard Elvis mention your “petals”. Such talk was still very new to you. Having been raised by the church most of your life, and having only attended catholic private schools, you’d been taught that such talk was deplorable and vulgar. 

Elvis seemed to be trying to undo all their teaching as he was very free and open with topics such as that one.

He could see the way your face began to dust a precious pink along your cheeks as you stared down at your hands scrunching up his shirt’s fabric within them. He couldn’t help but adore his sweet girl and lift your chin to take in the entirety of your innocence, the privilege of being innocent and naive having been fed to you with a silver spoon since you were a baby with your family’s fortune.

Your education didn’t span too far, it was done under the assumption that you’d be protected from the roughness of the world, the riff-raff. And though Elvis was a fair match monetarily-wise to your parents and the people you were raised around,with enough money to keep you as far away from the world’s roughness as possible, he was still considered to be in that riff-raff crowd.

Oh, what a shame for your family and the rest of your upper-class culture to have a rare purity, like you whisked away from your family made up of good breeding and a pure bloodline by a man like Elvis who would screw it all up when he one day planted his seed into your womb, making your once purebred French bloodline his own as he mixed himself into the history of your DNA to make a child that you will carry for months.

A child you will love to no end while your ancestors roll over in their graves.

Just the thought of it all made Elvis giddy.

His smile is cheeky as he grabs one of your nervous hands to soothe you while also keeping a grip on your chin with his other hand, his voice is breathy from speaking through a laugh,

“Now don’t let me lose ya, still got some splainin’ to do”

You can’t help but continue to duck your head away into your shoulder to hide your embarrassment, till Elvis pulls you out of it with his sweet little nickname for you,

“C’mon now Bubbles, need ya to keep listenin’ f’me”

You look up to meet those dark blues of Elvis’ that pierce with a strange softness.

“To seal the marriage a man plants his seed in a woman, and from then on he has to take care of that woman, that’s good husbandry. That’s part of what happens on a honeymoon. Understand?”

You nod slowly, and mumble a soft, “I understand”, before laying yourself down on Elvis, making yourself comfortable as you lay your head against his chest, your arms wrapping around his torso, somehow squeezing their way between Elvis' frame and the mattress.

Marriage seemed scary. Ever since you had gotten engaged to Elvis you felt a different weight begin to fall on your shoulders. And though you were excited to marry Elvis, you couldn’t help but remember how your mother described marriage to be with your father.

As Elvis dragged his hands along your body tracing every poke of a bone through your skin he closed his eyes, showing his affection through the action, you thought back to how marriage was represented to you as a little girl.

There were nights when your father stayed late for work that you’d sit on the floor between your mother's legs as she sat on the sofa, by then she would be nursing her 4th glass of wine that night, and let her braid your hair before bed.

You’d whimper softly as her diamond-littered gaudy engagement ring, which was comparable to the one you now owned, would catch on some strands of your hair. But you wouldn’t voice any complaint as she was too busy voicing her own, complaining to an 8-year-old you about your father’s “wandering eye”, how he loves work more than he loves his family, and that he can’t even function without a pill, in what sense she meant “function” you’d never know, because you only saw your father as a personal superhero. The man who would bring gifts like Santa, the man who would read you to bed on the rare nights he could, the man who held the whole world in his hand every time he held you.

You didn’t recognize the man your mother would drunkenly describe. And soon after you wouldn’t recognize your own mother as she would break into tears and talk about how it’s her fault, and that she knows it all falls on her to make the marriage work, she just needs to try harder.

You’d caress her knee and try to soothe the adult, “It’s okay Mommy”, while mustering up the courage to promise her that, “It’ll be okay”

And then at the end of the night, she would turn you around and slur with as much affection as she could muster,

“Always tend to your husband Sweetie, don’t make a prude of yourself like me, don’t make a nagging wife, be pleasant and pliant and you’ll be a happy wife”

Of course you weren’t married yet, and that might’ve been what was causing you to be such a worrywart, because you were scared of the unknown. That’s why you’ve been trying your best to find ways to start the marriage off in the best way possible.

But you now had a whole other thing to worry about perfecting, husbandry. 

It would all work out though, as long as you heed your mother’s words and be a pleasant, pliant wife, you’ll be just fine, and you’re confident that Elvis would never turn out to be the kind of husband that your mother described your father to be.

You mumbled into the fabric of Elvis’ shirt,

“How does a man plant his seed in a woman?”

Elvis’ hands came to a halt at your words. He thought he’d gone over this kind of thing with you before, then again there was never much need to. You never prodded for more than you were given, because you were simply unaware there was more you could get out of the pleasures of your body.

Elvis stared down at the top of your head as you kept your cheek resting on his chest, he realized how abstract your thoughts must’ve been compared to his within your relationship. He had spent countless nights holding himself back from making you his completely, there were so many times he easily could’ve done so. So many times you put yourself in the position to be vulnerable to the disgusting thought of a man who knew the pleasures you could give.

Had Elvis been a different man he would’ve done so by now, taken you shamelessly and left you crumpled on the floor next to your crumpled up clothes.

But he’d be reigned back by the thought that God wouldn’t make something like you, something so pure and holy, for sin. Had Elvis not been a god-fearing man he would’ve had his way with you.

All those nights he spent eating you out, listening to you finally break that voice box of yours in, the only thing he’d thought about was how much louder you would be when he could finally fuck you, meanwhile you thought that the sensation guided by Elvis’ tongue that momentarily blinded you was as good as it got, was as close as you’d get to God.

Oh Elvis could show you so much more, teach you so much more, touch you so much more. And as shameful as it is, he’d be a liar if he said that the fact that he wanted to be the one deflower you didn’t play a role in your engagement.

“I could show ya how it’s done Honey, would ya be alright with that? It’s a little different from anything we’ve ever done”

You sat up on his lap and nodded as you kept a hand to support yourself up on his stomach. He basked in the sight of you with a small smile, digging his hands through your hair like roots in the dirt, so deep and entangled it could be hard to tell where your hair began and his hands ended.

It wasn’t at all painful in the way your mother’s hands used to rest in your hair during her drunken stupor.

It was gentle as Elvis always was.

He used a gentle force to pull you close enough for him to press a kiss to your forehead for a moment and hold it there, you closed your eyes and let out a breath, any stiff stress in your body leaving at the touch of Elvis’ lips.

He pulled away, lips and hands.

“Lay down Baby”

Elvis patted your side of the bed and you quickly laid down as you usually would, and with a quick fwip of his hips Elvis’ knees rested just outside your thighs, his entire body hovering above yours as he reached over to your nightstand.

You heard the clink of glass, no doubt the two glass figurines you’d had since you were a child, your voice was soft but panicked as you felt a pang of protectiveness over your childhood trinkets.

“W-What are you doing?”

His response was immediate as he knew your sentimental feelings toward your figurines,

“It’s alright Honey, jus’ turnin’ Dottie and Lottie around”

“Oh.”

You let out a sigh of relief before having a blush spread like a wildfire in the summer across your cheeks. When Elvis had first touched you, you felt the need to turn your glass figurines Dolores and Charlotte, also known as Dottie and Lottie, around before he could continue any further. When he asked you why you could only mumble a quiet explanation about wanting to preserve their innocence. Elvis didn’t mind the strange gesture, he thought it was rather cute actually, it was something so girlish and sweet, something he’d never think of, it further instituted that you really were an endearing little girl.

And ever since then anytime Elvis touched you, he’d always turn your figurines toward the wall for you. And him doing it now meant that to plant his seed in you, he had to touch you.

You close your eyes as you relax into the mattress completely, and feel a shift in the bed then the cold air began to linger up your nightie, or rather Elvis made your nightie linger up your skin, giving way for him to view the cutely contrasting color of your pastel yellow panties to your pastel blue short satin nightie.

As the bed shifted a little more you allowed Elvis to part your legs so he could slide off the piece of fabric, his hands caressing the skin of your ankles a few seconds longer than the rest of your leg, and then he intricately removed your panties off your feet he laid them on the outside of your thigh, within arm's length.

You assumed what you’d be feeling next was what you always felt whenever he touched you, those calloused fingers of his walking their way up your thighs as he made himself comfortable right between the two limbs, his mouth and nose inches away from that bundle of nerves that he so lovingly explained was the bud of your little rose. 

His fingers would then drift down to what he called the petals of your rose, separating them gently, exposing your hole to the cold air of the room making you shiver like the scared little girl you were as he did so. But he liked it, liked how visceral all your reactions were from your inexperience.

Only this time, you’d been wrong as you heard the familiar shink of his belt, and as if you were a trained dog and his belt were a clicker, your eyes shot open as you knew what that sound meant. It meant you got to do the touching, but, why were your panties off if you were doing the touching?

As you sat up you saw Elvis shucking his pants and boxers down, you watched with a blush as you saw his dick, it wasn’t yet completely hard, it more so at half-staff if anything, with that it maintained enough loose skin so that the usual image of his veins bulging profusely through the thin skin was not a sight you’d yet see, but you could change that.

As you sat up with your legs still spread enough so that Elvis once he was free of his pants was able to swiftly kneel between them. You leaned forward with an eager hand but Elvis had caught your wrist before you’d made it to your target, you batted your eyelashes up at him in confusion.

“Elvis?”

He had a crooked smile on his lips and asked, “Don’t ya remember what ya gotta do first? C’mon Hon we’ve been over this a dozen times”. You had to think for a moment but felt flushed with embarrassment at your own mistake.

Elvis’ eyebrow ticked upward as he caught your realization, then he slowly raised your hand up to your mouth for you to lick a stripe along it. When he didn’t immediately pull away you knew to keep lapping at the skin till Elvis saw it suitable.

His head tilted down a little as he made eye-contact with you through the cracks of your fingers, staring at you as you licked lines of wet along the lines of your palm, he was mumbling a praise or too like “There ya go”, and “Just like that”. You only shut your mouth as his free hand came up to cup your cheek and gently push you back from your hand.

With your newfound view of his cock it definitely looked less limp than before but Elvis had taught you how to get it standing, and you wanted to show him that you could. He’d been loosening the reins lately and had been giving you more independence to touch him in the way you knew he liked. But at the perfect moments he’d step in and be a helping hand, wrapping his much larger hand around yours as he showed you what kind of pace he liked when his dick twitched a specific way.

It was him helping you build this muscle memory that was slowly etching its way into your brain, on the walls of your skull, and in the nerves of your hand

With the softest of groans leaving Elvis’ mouth your eyes shot up from his cock that maintained the attention of your palm, wanting to see his face, see the preview of your own triumph as you continued to stroke with the pace his hand guided yours along.

His smile was gone as his mouth twisted slightly to let out the low noise, he licked his lips quickly and tightened his hold on your hand, in turn tightening your hold on his cock as he ran your palm up and down it, your voice was hesitant and soft as you questioned, “L-Like that Elvis? I do it like that…”

He hummed an affirmation and mumbled, “Keep at it”, before pulling his hand off yours, leaning back on the bed on his palms while watching you with lowered lids, had they been any lower they would’ve been closed.

You tried shuffling yourself closer by planting your heels into the mattress and scooting yourself closer, but it was hard to focus on both things. You didn’t want to louse up what a good job you were doing, but you felt you could do better if you were just a little closer.

Elvis must’ve read your inner turmoil as he leaned off his palms and cupped the back of your knees with each hand, pulling you closer at the top of your calves where they connected with your thighs. As you continued with your strokes you noticed how close you now were, your bare pussy had never been so close to Elvis’ cock.

With the realization a strange curiosity shot through you, a kind of curiosity that had filled your senses one of the first times you’d sat on Elvis’s lap. He kept you on one knee easily, and it had been the leg that he often bounced absentmindedly, and as he easily bounced you on his leg you felt a weird sensation, and that damned curiosity of yours got the best of you subtly shifted on his leg, and suddenly the jumbling of your legs on his knee had shifted to a jumbling on a small bundle of nerves between your legs.

No you wouldn’t let your curiosity get the best of you again, you wouldn’t.

As Elvis pulled his hands away from your legs he leaned back on one palm and the other he reached forward to rub that very bundle of nerves you’d just been thinking of about. Just the slightest bit of force made your body react with what could be described as a convulsion as you breathed out a noise of surprise.

Elvis’ almost dazed look on his face didn’t shift as he glided his calloused thumb down between your folds, scooping up whatever was beginning to wet them, then using it as a lubricant to give your clit a good rub down, his facial expression unwavering as he watched you twitch and struggle to focus on doing a good job.

His voice was low and almost sounded slurred as he mumbled,

“Now this is hard ain’t it Honey? Tryin’ to pleasure each other at the same time?”

Your face shrunk and your lip quivered as you tried to maintain that you wouldn’t break under the sensations of it all, wanting to do good.

Upon gaining no answer Elvis’ eyes glazed up to meet yours, they now shifted to sympathy as he reassured you gently with little circles of his thumb around your bud,

“It’s alright Baby, I know it. I know it’s hard, that’s why through marriage a man can plant his seed in a woman, makes it easier y’know? A man can help you while he helps himself, ya shouldn’t have t’be doin’ work Honey”

You don’t know when you started nodding along to his words, you hardly understood them, but the way his eyebrows arched, the way his lips curled, the way his voice drew out, he seemed like he knew everything in the world. He was so in his element that you wouldn’t question it if he told you a cat were a dog.

But you had to ask, through your soft pants and whimpers, “H-how?” How was it possible to both be pleasured at the same time? How was it possible for both of you to reach that special spot just between the earth and the heavens where all felt impossibly right?

Elvis’ lips grew to a smirk once more as he removed his thumb from your clit and his hand wrapped around yours to pull you away. As you looked down you saw that familiar sight, that thin skin stretched out to show that long vein that started at the side of his dick and traveled down the center.

His other hand ran up your calf, to your thigh just to rest on your stomach, still covered by the top of your satin nightie, and with a firm force and a, “Lie back f’me” you were laid down on the bed with your legs spread.

He spread them a little further, and you watched as best you could while still laying down, craning your neck painfully to see what he was doing as he made a ring out of his thumb and index finger.

Elvis’ eyes met with yours, making sure you were watching before lining the tip of his cock up with the little makeshift hole he made of his fingers for demonstration.

“When a man plants his seed, he fills you with himself. This right here,” He lifted the little ring he’d made of two fingers, “This is like that little hole between your petals, so what I’m gonna do is fill it just slightly,” he slid the ring over the tip of his cock, leaving you to watch with a mouth slightly agape as his movement stretches the foreskin.

It’s not like when you stroke him though, he stops much too short, and doesn’t even go near the base of his cock, he ends at the base of the tip only.

“Now, this much is just till the wedding Hon. We can only do just the tippy top Baby, can’t break ya in just yet, we gotta wait till we’re unified under God to make that kinda connection-”

“...cause it’s special”

Elvis looked up at you, surprised to hear your soft voice so suddenly, it seems the words left your mouth with a little thoughtful pout. God, let this man hold back today. Let him be graceful and kind to his babylove, Elvis thought to himself as he smiled softly and hummed, 

“Yes it is sweet girl, it’s somethin’ special”

As a moment of sweet silence filled the air the two of you made eye contact, you smiled, feeling unsure of what was to come, he smiled back knowingly.

“Are ya ready Babylove?”

You bit your lower lip nervously and could only nod with trusting eyes. Elvis’ figure suddenly shut out most of the light from the ceiling as he supported his body above yours with one hand while he used his other to line up the tip of his cock.

You let out a shaky breath as he parted your fold with the tip of his cock before running it along your leaking slit. From the bottom up past the top till he hit that bundle of nerves that he could find with a blindfold. You squeaked softly at the bit of force he was using to circle your clit with his cock.

Elvis swore he’d do everything with you in mind, but as he watched the way your big eyes would crinkle to little bouts of eyelid folds and as he saw the way your lip quiver with every squeak and breath you let out, he couldn’t help himself but gauge your reaction to a little something.

Your breaths came out one by one in panic as you suddenly felt the tip of his cock begin to bat around your little bundle of nerves from the top, from side to side, even attacking from the bottom. Your eyes shot open from their little crinkles of stress and just before you could open your mouth his little batting around of your sensitive bud turned to slowed drawn out circles rubbing along the edge.

“That feels good huh Honey? It’s gonna get even better, just need ya to relax. Uh huh, that’s good, you’re doin’ good”

You relaxed into it, your jaw falling slack and your breaths coming out shallow. As you sank into that warmth that always accompanied Elvis’ gentle touch, Elvis pulled his neck back slightly to get a better look at your hole, with your folds parted he had a perfect view if he could look past his cock. He craned his neck a little to the left and found the target, wide open from your relaxed state, he licked his thumb to lubricate it and like a veteran, he navigated his cock down and at the forefront of it as his thumb took its place and pace in circling your clit, had you not been watching through lidded eyes you wouldn’t have even noticed.

“Here it come Baby, here it come”

Elvis couldn’t even look at you to gauge your reaction as his head fell back immediately as he was engulfed by your heat. Somewhere in the distance he heard a high-pitched noise but he was too high on the feeling- No, the knowledge that the first thing to fill you, to really fill you was his uncut cock’s head.

He breathed out to the ceiling, or rather to the Lord,

“Fuck…”

How could a feeling like this fill his mind, body, and soul from just the tip going in. Shit if he hadn’t already proposed to you he would do it now, just so he could one day feel the full effect of your body on his.

And then he finally peered down at you, and you were a sight to behold. He hadn’t been with a virgin in a long time, and the ones he had been with, you made them look like the most experienced girls in the world.

Your face was crumpled and your clenched fist was brought up to your mouth, you bit down so hard on your knuckles Elvis could see the skin losing its color around your little teeth. His hand slid down to your hip, running along the skin soothingly, as he hummed out, “Relax, it’s alright, just relax”

You nodded and pulled your fist from your mouth to show you were relaxing, but as your lower lip trembled Elvis could only softly remind, “Relax…”

And after a few moments of Elvis running his hands along your hips you spoke in an unsure whisper, “I-Is that it?”, Elvis sighed with a smile, “No Hon, don’t worry, but I can’t show ya the rest till ya relax, alright?” Elvis could feel you tightly around him, if he tried to pull the head of his cock back out he’d hurt you, he knew that.

"I-I am relaxed"

“No ya not Babylove”

You sighed softly, feeling a bit frustrated, this wasn’t what you thought it would be, it hurt. And it was obvious that you weren’t acting in the most pleasing way, so you lied through your teeth with a bit of an edge to your quiet words, “I’m relaxed.”

Elvis’ soft smile fell slightly at the tone of voice, and his eyebrows rose as he stared down at you, only now you avoided eye contact and opted to look at the wall. You tried to focus on the paint of the wall as best you can but it was thrown out the door as you felt a painful pull.

You whined at the feeling, and watched as Elvis pulled out, now you attempted to look him in the eye but he didn’t even spare you a glance as he muttered before lining himself up again, “Call that fuckin’ relaxed? If you’re so relaxed it should be easy goin’ back in”

Before you could voice an apology he’d already shoved the tip back in. It was much rougher than the first time he had put it in, it had you release a loud whimper and kick your feet, your heels pushing you away from his body, but his hips only chased further.

And those hands that were soothingly rubbing along your hips earlier now had them in a bruising grip to keep you from moving.

“Said ya relaxed, so fuckin’ act like it-”

Elvis let out a low groan as he stroked his cock while your little hole contracted from the stress of it all, it was like you were trying to swallow him, trying to suck him down into you. Almost like your body knew you needed his seed. And had he been a different man, or more accurately, had you been a different girl, he would’ve given it to you without shame. But you were different, you were special, you made this special.

He pulled out once more just to push back in, and then he repeated with no time in between, leaving you gasping at the rough push and pull of his cock head and whining at it, before blubbering out a series of apologies to him.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, ‘m not relaxed..! I-It hurts Elvis..!”

He’d ignored your apologies, but the way you said his name, like he could solve all your problems while also causing all of them, it was like you had this type of innocence. A pure innocence that no matter the pain he’d cause you, you’d still love him. Like if he kicked you, you’d come running right back.

Elvis stopped himself from pulling out once more and stared down at you, his grip released and one of his hands cupped your cheek and rested a thumb at the corner of your eye just before your temple, ready to catch a tear in case those teary eyes of yours spill over.

You stared up at him with a frown and pulled your hands to rest nervously on your stomach, feeling a sudden sense of awkwardness mixed with discomfort at the idea of Elvis being upset with you. But instead he seemed to sympathize with you,

“Now you see, ya gotta listen to me Babylove. I don’t expect much from ya, all I expect is honesty, now, be honest and let me know when you relax.”

You let out a shaky breath and soft noise as Elvis’ thumb landed back on your clit, beginning to rub those circles that make your hips twist a little from instinct. Elvis’ lips had been on yours in the blink of an eye, but his kiss was deep and slow, it wasn’t like when he’d kiss you so hard and so fast that your teeth knocked against his. Instead you felt his tongue explore each and every inch of your mouth carefully, could feel the way his tongue swiped along the small space between your lower gums and teeth.

His nose lightly grazed against the start of your cheek as he tilted his head to get a different angle. 

And in what would be one of the only moments for you to catch your breath within the kiss, you managed to breath out, “‘M ready”

It was a different kind of tug due to the efforts of the both of you. You were relaxed and open and Elvis was only rocking back and forth into you, no complete pulling, you couldn’t handle that yet.

With each rock of his hips, you let out a little breath or squeak. For a moment you lost focus as you watched the way Elvis used the thumb on one hand to stroke your little bud while using his other hand to stroke himself, but you were pulled back into your moment with Elvis as he groaned lowly, followed by a groan that sounded a bit more throaty. He was close.

And knowing that it was because he was in you made you feel a sense of excitement, and sense of sexuality, realizing you could make a man feel this way by doing nothing but laying there like a pliant doll.

Be a pliant wife. Your mother was right.

Your hips dragged upward slightly, crashing into his hips that were rocking down into you, the collision of skin made you moan softly as your manicured nails reached for the sheets, one hand gripped them brutally while your other hand ended up in Elvis' hair, not gripping, only carding through the dark strands.

“E-Elvis, it’s- I’m…”

You couldn’t describe it, what was coming, but thankfully you didn’t have to as he mumbled into your lips,

“I know Baby, I know. It’s comin’ f’me to, comin’ fast Babylove- H-how’s it comin’ for you?”

As the upward grind of your hips turned to little upward thrusts that your feet could manage on the slippery sheets of the bed you could hardly choke out a word as his thumb had entertained that warmth just below your stomach for too long, it’d been teased and tugged along far too long from the rubbing of his thumb on your little bundle of nerves that at its peaking point, it snapped, leaving you to try and choke out the words,

“It- I- It’s-”

As your mouth remained agape but your voice fell silent, and those pitiful attempts at thrusts of yours fell back to wishful grinds of your hips. Elvis thanked the Lord, he’d been trying his best to hold on for you, to slow his rocking when he felt himself get a little too close, he’d been edging himself almost the entire time for you.

And now as he pulled out and continued to stroke his cock with one hand, the hand previously fondling your clit reached for the pair of panties he laid aside so long ago.

As you caught your breath you watched as Elvis’ hand stroked twice, thrice, four more times along his length before he buried his cock in your crumpled up panties, letting his head fall back and a guttural moan fill the room as he reached his peak.

After a few moments of silence accompanied by the pants of the both of you Elvis removed the metal ring holding his short ascot scarf together at the center of his neck, you heard a clink as he tossed it somewhere on the wood floor, then you watched as the fabric got closer to your face, closing your eyes at the contact you could feel Elvis wiping away the dampness building on your head and cheeks from the heat what you just experienced. As the feeling left you watched as he wiped his own face off before bringing the satin scarf down to your petals, wiping off the proof of your pleasure from your pussy’s lips then wiping off your thighs that happened to be the victims of the heated juices that spread through your body which were shoveled out from the earlier pulls of Elvis’ cock’s head.

After Elvis caught his breath and pulled the panties away from his cock to see his work, then he flipped it toward you, and you saw that familiar white liquid that Elvis told you was a reward for your hard work.

“When we get married and I fill you with my seed, this is what I’ll be fillin’ ya with, I promise…”

Your eyes were lidded and tired, but full of love as you took in the sight of your fiancé, his once perfectly coiffed hair now ruffled, you could see sweat stains forming on the blue silk shirt he didn’t bother to take off before starting, and those eyelashes of his must’ve been batting so much as he now had a stray on his cheek, he must’ve missed it with his scarf.

As Elvis prepped your reward, scraping it off the pastel fabric with a finger you parted your lips, and as he finger-fed you his seed you accepted the finger into your mouth, closing your lips around it as you sucked it clean. “Atta girl, did so well” 

Your own little finger guided up his cheek to swipe the eyelash off his cheek, he watched with confusion at the way you smiled around his finger, then you flipped your finger around to show him.

As he crawled over your body to lay down beside you, removing his finger in the process you spoke with a bit of hoarseness, “Make a wish”

Elvis smiled fondly and put a hand over your thigh, “You can have this one Babylove”

You smiled before checking once more, “Are you sure?”

He wanted to laugh at how serious you were taking it all, and with a gentle rub of his hand he reassured, “I’m sure Honey, I’m sure”

You smiled down at the little eyelash resting on the middle of your index finger. And you wished for all that you could want, you wished for a happy marriage.

I had so much fun!! I really liked writing this, and I'm so happy I've had requests to write this character to the point I can turn it into a whole au!! hope you liked it.

If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this au feel free to just comment or message me!

@fadedsummerlove, @lialocklear, @astral-eyed-cat here it is lovelies

[wol-fica]

-𝕊𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝔸ℝ𝕋 𝟚-

parings - jennaortega x fem!reader

summary - before jenna ortega became a huge actress and held the world in her hand, she only had you

warnings - angst, high schoolers lol, all characters are 18 and up :)

an - hi :) [DISCLAIMER: This story is not affiliated with @/tonyspanks ‘SHE’ series. Two different stories, same title]

—————————

The school day flew by for you, all because you couldn't stop thinking about the sweet girl who invited you over for studying. Every class you were scolded for zoning out, but you couldn't help thinking of what events could occur at the certain latina’s house.

You had never been invited over before; yes you have been by the house to drop off Jenna’s younger twins because she was to sick to pick them up from school, but you had never been inside. 

But unfortunately, all your excitement was diminished when you spotted Jenna standing at her locker, with Houston Moores, the star football player of the highschool team. He was leaning up against the wall, standing over her with a playful smile on his face, and as you drew closer, you could hear Jenna giggling.

Not wanting an interaction with the two, you went straight for your locker and started gathering your things to head home. Jenna turned around from the noise and instantly smiled she saw you, her eyes lighting up like a christmas tree.

"Y/N!" She cheesed, giving the you a swift hug.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach, startling you so much that you jolted backwards at the abrupt gesture. Jenna looked at you with concern, her eyes softening at your startled state.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." She said, fixing the wrinkles in your shirt.

You shook your head, the few strands of hair that hung at the front of your face came undone, so you subtly tucked them back behind your ear. Jenna found that action one of the most adorable things you do, along with the way your nose crinkles when you laugh, and how your eyebrows knit together when you are focused.

"It's fine Jenna, I'm good." You replied with a small smile..

Jenna returned the smile before someone behind them coughed harshly. Your y/e/c eyes met Houston’s coffee brown ones, which happened to be filled with confusion and jealousy. Jenna seemed to have someone flick a switch inside her, and she straightened her self up immediately.

"Hey, I'm sorry but I don't think you can come over today." Jenna said to you, giving you an apologetic frown.

You raised an eyebrow, but refrained from speaking. Something that you learned from being constantly picked on, is to keep silent, you found out that if you don't give a reaction, the latter will leave you alone.

"I'm sorry." Jenna repeated, watching your every

move.

"It's fine, I think I had some stuff to do anyways." You lied, giving a fake smile that only Jenna could recognize.

"Are you sure?" She asked, taking a small step towards you.

You scoffed, shoving the last of your belongings into your book bag. You slung it over your shoulder, turning to face the girl you were so obsessed with.

"I'm sure, most don't get angry with their friends canceling on them repeatedly." You sneered, sarcasm laced in your voice.

You stared down Jenna’s beautiful brown eyes before turning on your heel and hurrying off to your car outside. Yes, you felt somewhat bad for yelling at her, but at the same time you didn't regret what you said. Jenna had canceled on you constantly in the past, creating a repetitive nature of the two of you making plans but not ever meeting up. It ended causing you to never want to even try to make plans, because Jenna would inevitably drop out at the last minute.

'It's whatever, she doesn't even care half the time' You thought bitterly.

Little did you know, she was watching you run off, a sinking feeling in her chest telling her that she definitely did care.

———————————

After your mini tantrum in front of Jenna, you proceeded to head to a drunk Halloween themed party the next day. You wanted to get your mind off of the rose smelling sweetheart by drinking off your sorrows with tons and tons of vodka.

Sounds great!

Currently you were getting ready, putting the final touches on your costume. You decided to go as 'Lara Croft' from 'Tomb Raider', but as things were expensive and you weren’t gonna try to make a red carpet worthy outfit, you settled for a more watered down version. In your opinion, all you had to do was wear a tank top, shorts, and combat boots, roll in dirt, then have a bow and arrow on your back.

"I can't believe my sister is going to a cheesy Halloween party!" Theo said dramatically, taking photos of you while you finished up your makeup.

"I'm not six Theo, I'm allowed to go to parties." You replied, putting your mascara away.

"You are missing my point! Y/N Y/L/N, a lesbian, is gonna hang with a bunch of low ledge straights!"

You snorted, shaking out your hair that hung loosely around your shoulders. You decided to let it loose, seeing that now was a perfect time to 'fuck up the normal'. After you finished cleaning your vanity, you turned to see your brother shaking his head at you.

"Cmon Theo, if you are so concerned just come with me." You suggested, grabbing your bag.

"I don't have a costume dingus, I can't just show up."

Theo responded while using your red lipstick.

You rolled your eyes as you packed your bag with the necessary things you relies on, including your epipen, your inhaler, and an extra sweater because fashion changes are vital. Most of the time you wouldn't have to use your medical devices, but you still needed them in the case an emergency happened. It would be bad to go into shock at a drunk party anyways. 

"Theo, you look like a drag queen half the time, if you show up like how you do know no one will care." You said, throwing your bag over your shoulder.

Theo gave you a glare, paused in thought, then slumped his shoulders and walked past you.

"Fine, but if you get laid don't come running to me for a ride home." He snipped, grabbing his keys.

"Who the hell would want to have sex with me Theo?"

"Oh I dunno, Jenna Ortega?"

You froze in your tracks, slowly turning to face your brother. He had a triumphant smirk on his face, and his eyes showed gleams of curiosity.

"Y/N/N, I'm not stupid. I see the way you gawk at her." Theo said, getting into the drivers side.

You slowly followed suit, sliding slowly into the passenger seat next to him. He stared at you , cocking his head to the side.

"Y/N..." He started.

"What." You snapped, your arms crossed over your chest.

Theo sighed and squinted at the road ahead of him, aware of the cars passing by.

"Listen, I wasn't trying to be mean."

You were silent, watching the trees whizzing by in the background, your mind feeling melted.

"Y/N/N, I understand how you-."

"No, you don't!" You hissed, glaring at your half-brother.

See, you and Theo used to not get along; your relationship as half-siblings was exceedingly complicated and torn, as your father decided to ditch both of your moms and left you all to fend for yourselves for years until he came back on his hands and knees begging to be let back in. All he wanted was the money, but your mom never saw that and still hasn’t to this day.

Theo took on the role as a father figure to you, even though you both are the same age, but along with that he gained the trait of strictness and the indescribable obsession to make sure he always knew where you were. Those traits were lost when your family moved last summer, but that doesn't mean you forgot.

"You don't understand at all! You don't know what it's like to fall in love with someone who won't ever

consider you, who is happily living her dream and doesn't even like girls!" You yelled, slamming your hands down on top of the glove box. 

You gripped the cheap plastic, feeling it crack under you fingertips before you spoke, “She doesn’t even like me.”

You slumped backwards again, leaning to look back out the window. Everything you said was true, and unfortunately your feelings had grown subsequently for Jenna, but it seemed to you that you would never be able to have what you dreamt of.

"I'm sorry." Theo whispered.

"It's okay." You whispered back, keeping your gaze on the word outside.

Theo sighed but pressed the gas pedal down, driving down the wet road to the raging Halloween party.

——————————

taglist: @cartierdreamx@tundra1029@red1culous@vorsdany@andsoigotabutterfly@theafterofnevermore@yomomisgay@house-of-lovin@slvt4lanadelrey@thenextdawn@nepobaby08@dunohilly@somekindofpoet@alexkolax@cinffy23@pedrosprincess@amberfreemansburntface@myfturn

[astramachina]

Speeding across the country, in somebody else's car Keeping a book of secrets, and taking it too far (x)

Ricky's has got a handful of secrets:

The eyesore of a 'magenta' car he drives is stolen.

His college degree is a forgery.

The blood on his jacket is Definitely His Own.

And he's never forgiven the owners of that old pizzeria for the events of '87. After all, that was his little brother's head inside the jaws of a mechanical monster.

Here's all you need to know about Ricky Kronbach and his terrible, horrible, no good, very bad life courtesy of an extensive list of extremely bad decisions.

A movie!verse OC (in a "what if the games somehow still happened in the movie!verse but the dates were slightly altered" type of AU; ie the bite of '87 still occurred but rather than Jeremy Fitzgerald getting chomped, it was MCI!Jeremy)

"He said he could bring Jeremy back." "Jeremy's been gone a decade." "But what if he can? What if it's possible?"

Born September 9th, 1972 to Mary and John Kronbach in Great Falls, Minnesota. As the oldest of two kids he's both stubborn and protective, the former by instinct and the latter by necessity. With John's violent outbursts and propensity to gamble away most of the family income, and Mary's neglect in response to Ricky acting as a "tomboy" from a young age, home life for the Kronbach siblings was less than stellar.

To catch a break, Ricky would get into his allowance and bike down to Freddy's with his little brother Jeremy in tow. It happened often enough that multiple servers and one of the owners' daughters knew them by name. But late one Friday in November of 1987, tragedy came rushing up to meet the Kronbach's when Jeremy, aided by the owner's daughter, requested to see the Bonnie animatronic up close. No one exactly knows how the nine-year-old managed to get his head stuck between its jaws, triggering the springlock mechanism that killed him.

Following these events, John blamed Ricky for the death of his "only son" and unleashed a reign of terror on the teenager that would only end in further tragedy. When questioned about the events that took place during "The Christmas Massacre of '87", Ricky would claim to have been asleep during his parents' murder. At no point does he confide in anyone about the night terrors that lead up to the event—of the 7ft tall, striped marionette that led him towards the knife block on the kitchen counter.

The night terrors continue well into adulthood, even after his suspension from MSU's post-grad program, when he threatened one of his professors and picked fights with several classmates for unspecified reasons. With a criminal record and infamy attached to his family name, Ricky is forced to seek professional help when no one would employ him.

In the Spring of 1996, Ricky meets his career counselor, Steve Raglan, who offers him a night security gig. Ricky turns down the opportunity, and upon exiting the office he notices a magenta Chevrolet that seems familiar. Disconcerted that he can't pinpoint where he's seen it before, Ricky decides to skip town and start a new life altogether, as far away from his past as possible.

"I'm thinking Anaheim. Become an Imagineer. Someone who puts a smile on kids' faces, y'know?"

Strangely enough, in a Denny's out in the Middle of Nowhere, Colorado over a year later, he comes across the same car, the same career counselor, and Ricky is now certain "Steve Raglan" isn't who he claims to be.

"Steve Raglan" knows the name Kronbach, knows about Ricky's past and his impressive academic record, so he makes him one more offer the young man can't possibly refuse: if Ricky helps him finish an old project him and his old business partner set out to create in the 80s, then "Steve" can bring Ricky's brother back from the dead.

Some picrew references—altho! @/namonaki-arts took these references and brought him to life in chibi form.

Does this look like a man who'd team up with a serial killer to bring back his dead brother who may or may not have been a victim of said serial killer? Look at him. Does he look like someone with his own trail of dead bodies and stolen cars and also arson? P'shaw.

[coquelicoq]

I'm easily summoned by every variation of "ask me about (whatever)" so for the 5 things, can you please answer for Da-Qing who I know just enough about to enjoy your answers, and maybe also Gideon the Ninth?

no pressure but i do look forward to your asks every time! always so delighted when you participate <33

for da qing:

Do you love/hate/not feel strongly about this character? i mean, he's a cat. so obviously i love him. i met a cat yesterday who bit me and she's still the most perfect creature on the planet and i love her to the ends of the earth forever, as is just and proper.

What’s your favorite trait of this character? he's a total slacker motivated only by people making food for him. CAN RELATE.

What’s your favorite moment/event involving this character? when everyone is freaking out about who's going to be in charge while lao zhao is gone and it never occurs to anybody that maybe da qing…the deputy…would be in charge? i love a character who sucks at his job and he knows it and everybody else knows it and they're all like this is our emotional support second-in-command who doesn't do anything except nap in sunbeams. a man after my own heart.

If you could have one power/attribute/etc. of this character, what would it be? not to pick the most obvious thing but he can turn into a cat. well technically he is a cat all the time no matter what he's shaped like, but you know what i mean. i want to be cat-shaped. i want to have a fun bendy spine. i want to make cat noises!

Have you ever pictured this character naked? yes. no. technically. kind of? see other ask.

When did you fall in love/hate with this character? If you don’t have any strong feelings toward them, why not? i don't remember but let's say...the first time he tries and fails to speak Cat to kittens. teeny kittens stumbling around in an alleyway while he dangles a fish on the line in front of them and grouches at them…exquisite. no notes. love a guy with amnesia who's making it everyone else's problem. meanwhile, unless i'm mistaken, cong bo is spying on him like...okay what the actual f. this show is a comedy.

Who’s your OTP for this character? i don't have a romantic otp for him. it's probably best if he stays off the dating market, if he's going to go on dates in that HORRIBLE suit. but obviously brotp with zhao yunlan. the relationship between a boy and the cat who raised him and doesn't remember having pledged eternal fealty to the boy's adult self when he traveled back in time ten thousand years ago is actually something that can be so personal.

for gideon:

Do you love/hate/not feel strongly about this character? i love her. also i would laugh at every single one of her puns.

What’s your favorite trait of this character? very hard question. i think my answer is that i love how sad she is. specifically i love the way that was communicated to us - we saw things through her narration for two books, then the first time we saw her from the outside, not only was she totally fucked up from The Horrors but she was also stripped bare of the obfuscation of her own narration. she's always been sad but she was hiding it from us. i also love her sense of humor and how much she cares about things, but those are both the same as the first thing. runner-up: her angina dentata. yes that's what i'm calling it. as of right now.

What’s your favorite moment/event involving this character? god what kind of question. probably when she takes back over harrow's body to fight the heralds and cannot stop mentioning how little harrow works out.

If you could have one power/attribute/etc. of this character, what would it be? upper arm strength definitely.

Have you ever pictured this character naked? nope.

When did you fall in love/hate with this character? If you don’t have any strong feelings toward them, why not? i don't remember but i'm gonna guess it was either when she didn't know what salad was or when she went ham on that trapdoor because she thought harrow was dead or dying on the other side of it. (she was right.)

Who’s your OTP for this character? wow i do not have an answer. this seems like a gimme of a question but if i really think about it it's actually very hard. i don't know. i don't know!

[world-cinema-research]

Week 4 Blog Post, Carrie - Chloe Ziegler

The movie Carrie was originally based on a book written by Steven King and then made into a film directed by Brian De Palma. The film stars a young girl in high school who is bullied for getting her menstrual cycle. She is not only bullied by her classmates, but also scolded by her mother. She goes on to discover she has telekinetic abilities. While she continues to be bullied an event happens at the prom that makes her realize her full potential of her powers and the movie ends in an unsuspecting way. The movie came out in 1976 and made over 25.8 million dollars, while it only cost them about 1.8 million dollars. The movie was considered a big success in the film industry as a supernatural horror film.

Carrie was significantly loved by horror movie critics all around. The movie became special in the film industry specifically with its ending. In an interview with Steven King, he mentions how although he wasn’t a part of the filming, Brian De Palma did an excellent job in producing the movie in all its glory leaving viewers with suspense and surprise. A popular movie critic, Roger Ebert, calls the horror film “a real one, in which the horror grows out of the characters themselves.” https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/carrie-1976

The way it is filmed gives the viewers strong feelings towards the characters of the film that continue to grow and grow as the movie goes on until essentially… they erupt. An important scene happens at the prom where we feel so emotionally attached to Carrie as she receives prom Queen and King with her date Tommy before everything goes wrong and she is humiliated. This photo shows that quite well.

Some of the big events that occurred in 1976 included the beginning of Steve Jobs' career with Apple and the unveiling of NASA’s first space shuttle, the Enterprise. The beginning of Apple was huge for not only Steve Jobs but also the world. It grew very quickly over the next few years and became one of the biggest companies in the world. The introduction of the space shuttle was a huge accomplishment for space exploration as President Richard Nixon said “it would revolutionize transportation into near space.” These events reflect the innovation of technology in the world at this time. Just as this movie sort of became a revolutionizing piece in the horror film industry.

While the movie still has an older feel to it regarding the music and storytelling aspects, it doesn’t necessarily follow the typical horror movie stereotypes. It has intimate scenes where we feel empathy towards Carrie and her PE teacher as well. However, the ending is where it takes a turn. It is sad in the sense that Carrie is constantly made fun of and even at home her mother continues to scold her. So it makes us as the viewers feel more inclined to empathize towards Carrie. For example, in this clip Carrie tries to tell her mom about her powers, but sadly she accuses her of being a witch or possessed by Satan. She even calls her "Witch. Got Satan's Power." and Carrie responds "It has nothing to do with Satan, Mama. It's me. Me. If I concentrate hard enough, I can move things." She definitely struggles a lot throughout the movie with her mother and having someone to understand her and this clip shows that pretty well.

The film was very successful in its adaptation from the Novel. It received two Academy award nominations for Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress, as well as becoming regarded as one of the best horror films to ever be made. The movie is often compared to the suspense of Jaws, another successful film for its production and ending. The culture defined in the movie shows elements of individualism vs. collectivism where Carrie is made to feel like she’s all alone in the world, while her classmates constantly make fun of her. There are also parts of emotional effectiveness vs. feeling neutral. This is shown through Carrie specifically where her powers act off of her feelings, but when she is in school she is shy and reserved. Lastly I noticed actions based on internal and external feelings. In the movie Carrie acts on internal feelings, but people like Christine (her bully) act off of external feelings and appearances. The movie fits into typical high school stereotypes like going to the prom and driving around their dates. However, I think these stereotypes are a bit different nowadays in terms of how people are asked out and going on dates. It also has lots of elements of God and blood tied through out the movie and her mother makes biblical references all throughout the movie, "I'm here on the Lord's work, Mrs. Snell; spreading the gospel of God's salvation through Christ's blood!"  

I believe this movie fits into the unconventional category specifically in horror films. It doesn’t follow the typical storyline, nor does it end like most movies. Throughout the movie there are scenes where we think everything is happy and exciting but then they take a turn for the worst, just like the prom scene. It really does bring emotions to the viewer like disbelief, fear, and sadness. The movie is also very understandable to many people mainly because it appeals to the female audience and even those who feel rejected like Carrie. The movie attracts a wide audience which I believe attribute to its filming success.

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Dead West by Linda L. Richards

The Endings Series #3

I had trouble relating to the main character and it took a while to get into the story. I am not sure if coming into the series on the third book was the reason why I felt the disconnect or if the female assassin was so lacking in depth that it felt plodding, then again, perhaps she was plodding through life and that feeling is what was what the author was trying to achieve.

Katherine Eveline Ragsdill seems to have taken up killing for money after a traumatic event occurred in her life. The event was no doubt covered in previous books along with her decision to step into her new job description. I believe, from reading reviews and book synopses, that the previous two books might give more insight into Katherine and would have helped me know her better.

Anyway, this book has her sent out with a designated kill contracted for. Meeting the mark, finding out that he is a good person with high ideals, and feeling drawn to him are the first mistake she makes in being able to fulfill the contract. Then Walker is kidnapped, she feels the need to “save him”, and the plot thickens. Katherine has to contend with as the story progresses including truly evil men who use and abuse, a man she admires but can’t have, someone young that she feels connected to and helps in a big way, many she will not see again, and a new course to set at the end of the book. The final scene is of Katherine driving  down the road with her dog toward…well…I’m not sure where she will end up.

I never really got to know the woman who is the main character. I don’t know if she has a moral compass or not. She has killed before and perhaps some of those killed were not evil. Perhaps she is growing and evolving and coming out of the stupor of grieving to find herself capable of moving on to something positive and she will end up somewhere better in the future. I might give the next book in the series a chance to see what happens next with her and the dog she is now traveling with.

Thank you to NetGalley and Oceanvies Publishing for the ARC – This is my honest review.

4 Stars

BLURB

Rule #1 of being a hired never get to know your target . . . and definitely don' t fall in love with them Taking lives has taken its toll. Her moral justifications have faltered. Do any of the the people she has killed — some of them heinous, but all of them human — deserve to die? Her next target is Cameron Walker, a rancher in Arizona. When she arrives at his remote desert estate to carry out her orders, she discovers that he is a kind and beautiful man. After a lengthy tour of the ranch, not only has she not killed him, she's wondering who might want him dead.  She procrastinates long enough that a vibe grows between them. At the same time, she learns that he's passionate about wild horses and has been fighting a losing political battle to save the mustangs that live on protected land near his property. He's even received death threats from those who oppose him. She finds herself trying to protect the man she was sent to kill, following a trail that leads from the desert, to the Phoenix cognoscenti, to the highest offices in Washington, DC. Along the way she encounters kidnappers and killers, horse thieves and even human traffickers. Hopefully she can figure out who ordered the hit before they hire someone else to execute the assignment. Perfect for fans of Dean Koontz and Tana French While the novels in The Endings Series stand on their own and can be read in any order, the publication sequence is as Endings Exit Strategy Dead West

[cvzz1555]

The movie Carrie was originally based on a book written by Steven King and then made into a film directed by Brian De Palma. The film stars a young girl in high school who is bullied for getting her menstrual cycle. She is not only bullied by her classmates, but also scolded by her mother. She goes on to discover she has telekinetic abilities. While she continues to be bullied an event happens at the prom that makes her realize her full potential of her powers and the movie ends in an unsuspecting way. The movie came out in 1976 and made over 25.8 million dollars, while it only cost them about 1.8 million dollars. The movie was considered a big success in the film industry as a supernatural horror film.

Carrie was significantly loved by horror movie critics all around. The movie became special in the film industry specifically with its ending. In an interview with Steven King, he mentions how although he wasn’t a part of the filming, Brian De Palma did an excellent job in producing the movie in all its glory leaving viewers with suspense and surprise. A popular movie critic, Roger Ebert, calls the horror film “a real one, in which the horror grows out of the characters themselves.” https://www.rogerebert.com/reviews/carrie-1976

The way it is filmed gives the viewers strong feelings towards the characters of the film that continue to grow and grow as the movie goes on until essentially… they erupt. An important scene happens at the prom where we feel so emotionally attached to Carrie as she receives prom Queen and King with her date Tommy before everything goes wrong and she is humiliated. This photo shows that quite well.

Some of the big events that occurred in 1976 included the beginning of Steve Jobs' career with Apple and the unveiling of NASA’s first space shuttle, the Enterprise. The beginning of Apple was huge for not only Steve Jobs but also the world. It grew very quickly over the next few years and became one of the biggest companies in the world. The introduction of the space shuttle was a huge accomplishment for space exploration as President Richard Nixon said “it would revolutionize transportation into near space.” These events reflect the innovation of technology in the world at this time. Just as this movie sort of became a revolutionizing piece in the horror film industry.

While the movie still has an older feel to it regarding the music and storytelling aspects, it doesn’t necessarily follow the typical horror movie stereotypes. It has intimate scenes where we feel empathy towards Carrie and her PE teacher as well. However, the ending is where it takes a turn. It is sad in the sense that Carrie is constantly made fun of and even at home her mother continues to scold her. So it makes us as the viewers feel more inclined to empathize towards Carrie. For example, in this clip Carrie tries to tell her mom about her powers, but sadly she accuses her of being a witch or possessed by Satan. She even calls her "Witch. Got Satan's Power." and Carrie responds "It has nothing to do with Satan, Mama. It's me. Me. If I concentrate hard enough, I can move things." She definitely struggles a lot throughout the movie with her mother and having someone to understand her and this clip shows that pretty well.

The film was very successful in its adaptation from the Novel. It received two Academy award nominations for Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress, as well as becoming regarded as one of the best horror films to ever be made. The movie is often compared to the suspense of Jaws, another successful film for its production and ending. The culture defined in the movie shows elements of individualism vs. collectivism where Carrie is made to feel like she’s all alone in the world, while her classmates constantly make fun of her. There are also parts of emotional effectiveness vs. feeling neutral. This is shown through Carrie specifically where her powers act off of her feelings, but when she is in school she is shy and reserved. Lastly I noticed actions based on internal and external feelings. In the movie Carrie acts on internal feelings, but people like Christine (her bully) act off of external feelings and appearances. The movie fits into typical high school stereotypes like going to the prom and driving around their dates. However, I think these stereotypes are a bit different nowadays in terms of how people are asked out and going on dates. It also has lots of elements of God and blood tied through out the movie and her mother makes biblical references all throughout the movie, "I'm here on the Lord's work, Mrs. Snell; spreading the gospel of God's salvation through Christ's blood!"

I believe this movie fits into the unconventional category specifically in horror films. It doesn’t follow the typical storyline, nor does it end like most movies. Throughout the movie there are scenes where we think everything is happy and exciting but then they take a turn for the worst, just like the prom scene. It really does bring emotions to the viewer like disbelief, fear, and sadness. The movie is also very understandable to many people mainly because it appeals to the female audience and even those who feel rejected like Carrie. The movie attracts a wide audience which I believe attribute to its filming success.

[elliepassmore]

The Darkening review

4/5 stars Recommended for people who like: fantasy, magic, monsters, tentative alliances I had a really hard time getting into this book. I struggled to connect with the characters and kept feeling like the book was dragging on. Considering that things start happening immediately and the pacing is actually quite quick, the fact that I felt like it was dragging really isn't a good sign for the book (or perhaps my mood when I read it). Vesper Vale is the daughter of revolutionaries and constantly feels like she isn't living up to her parents' names. She thinks her father is disappointed in her and, frankly, there's no evidence to suggest otherwise, leaving her feeling more connected to Amma, the elderly lady who took them in, than to her own dad. I did believe Vesper's love for her father, and more than that her love for Amma and the Cursed. Vesper is definitely reckless and more prone to acting than thinking, but I kind of blame this on the legacy of her parents. I mean, what 17-year-old wouldn't want to try and be the hero when their parents were heroes themselves? In terms of character interactions, I liked the connection Vesper seemed to have with the Cursed that she, Amma, and her dad were taking care of. There was clear love with Amma, and Vesper definitely saw her as a grandmother figure (which, I'm pretty sure is what 'amma' means). She also has some very sibling-like interactions with the Cursed, and I would have liked to see more scenes with them or more flashbacks where we got to see how Vesper and them interacted and grew close (or not). In all honesty, the storyline of Vesper being a caretaker and going on a journey in order to help Amma and the Cursed feels like a much better one than the one we got. I also feel like a certain scene/event that occurs isn't really touched on enough. It has an impact but it fails to reverberate the way it should. As mentioned, Vesper and her father struggle for closeness. There's a distance between them that her father, Alcanar, has erected in order to shield his own emotions about his past and what happened to Vesper's mother. Alcanar is definitely someone who has regrets in life, and the failed revolution has certainly beaten him down to the point where he feels like it was all a mistake. Since he sees so many similar qualities in Vesper, his tactic is to keep that shield up and hold her at arm's length to protect her. While his love for her becomes clear toward the end of the book, for the most part I kind of struggled to understand why we as readers should care about him. Vesper cares because he's her father, but we are given no reason to other than that Vesper does, and that's simply not enough. When Vesper's father is captured, that's where Prince Dalca comes in. Vesper needs to find out where he's hidden, so she disguises herself and sneaks into the training grounds for the soldiers, bodyguards, and magic users and becomes an apprentice to one of Dalca's closest friends, Cas. Neither Dalca nor Cas are particularly appealing characters at first. Dalca is not particularly a character I like. He's bought so far into the gloriousness of his lineage that he can't see the despair that's already swept into the outer edges of the city. He knows that the inherited magic of his family is failing, but can't think past 'fix it' long enough to see that he could try and make things better with policy changes rather than solely through strengthening the magic. He's also an exceptionally emotionally reactive character who likes to blame others for his problems. I don't see what Vesper sees in him and both Cas and Iz would make better love interests (and even a Cas x Iz pairing would feel more natural and they spend almost the entire book bickering). Vesper says she feels something for Dalca, but all it feels like to me is instalust. Other than being nice to her when he doesn't know who she is, Dalca doesn't really give Vesper any reason to even crush on him. Likewise, Vesper doesn't really have enough substantial conversations with Dalca to make him have a good reason to 'fall in love' with her. Cas is an asshole for pretty much the entire book, but Vesper and us readers come to understand him a bit better and I do end up liking him by the end. He's got a prickly outside but is one of those people who does have a soft core (even if it's buried deep). He's got some funny lines, though his are heavily focused on sarcasm and witty barbs. Iz, another one of Dalca's friends, is probably the only one I actually like at the second encounter. Iz has secrets of his own, but he seems genuine in his friendship/allyship and understands that things in the kingdom/city need to change. He has some funny lines as well and brings some levity to the situations the characters find themselves in. The ending 20% or so was probably the most interesting part, though I did enjoy Vesper's interactions with Cas and Iz prior to this. There's a lot of action at the end, as well as a general 'clearing up' of some things so that the pieces begin to fall together a lot more. I am still a little sketchy on that ending sequence, since I feel some characters randomly changed their tune partway through an action scene and I couldn't keep track of why the change occurred and what prompted it. I think I just wasn't in the mood to read this one, but I got it in a book box and the cover + edges were so pretty I didn't want to not read it. I would've liked a more fully-fleshed romance arc for Vesper and Dalca, a completely different love interest, or none altogether. Also, I wish Mara did more with the Cursed since I feel there's such good potential there and it largely goes unutilized. Finally, there's a very interesting sequence where Mara seems to equate fear and common sense and I do feel that certain behaviors could've been avoided if that comparison hadn't happened (fearlessness does not equal complete and utter lack of logic and common sense, though it seems to here).

[fabianocolucci]

5 of my favourite MCU Retcons

The Marvel Cinematic Universe, much like its comic book counterpart, made use of retcons when, as the universe grew larger and larger, they wanted to either correct some continuity problems or tie newer installments to the older ones.

Here, I wanted to mention 5 of my favourite ones, plus a bonus one. The reasons why I picked them is simple: despite the fact that the original intent was way different, the new revelation didn't cause any harm to the storytelling.

Alright, so, the order won't be particular: I would simply mention them in chronological order, as in when the retcon took place.

THE INFINITY STONES HAVE BEEN AROUND SINCE PHASE 1 (THOR: THE DARK WORLD, 2013)

In the comics, the Cosmic Cube, named the Tesseract in the MCU, has nothing to do with the Infinity Stones. Neither does Loki's scepter.

However, when it became more apparent that the goal for the MCU was to lead towards Infinity War, they figured that having those two artefact being retroactively established as holding two Infinity Stones would have been a great idea. After all, Phase 1 movie kept teasing the Cosmic Cube (Iron Man 2 via notes and sketches, Thor by having it appear during the Post-Credits Scene and The First Avengers by making it the object Red Skull was after in the movie), so they essentially had to say "hey, you know how we made a huge deal about this one artefact? Well, turns out it's just ONE of SIX of the most powerful artefacts in the universe, and someone's goal is to gather them all".

It was Thor: The Dark World which first introduced the concept of the Infinity Stones by explaining how the Aether was one of them, even though it doesn't look like a stone at all (some speculated that it was originally meant to be a completely separate artefact too).

TONY STARK'S PARENTS BEING MURDERED BY THE WINTER SOLDIER (CAPTAIN AMERICA - THE WINTER SOLDIER, 2014)

When the original Iron Man movie came out in 2008, having Tony Stark's parents dying of a car accident seemed normal. However, Phase 1 already teased how Howard Stark was a pivotal member in the early days of S.H.I.E.L.D. which means it felt a little suspicious how he would suddenly die with a "car crash".

Thus, when The Winter Soldier arrived, the movie had the perfect opportunity to mention how Hydra was somehow involved in his death, and, when its sequel, Civil War, revealed that it was Bucky himself who performed the assassination, things tied together perfectly, even up to the date (Mission Report: December 16, 1991).

I like this retcon because, after the way they expanded Howard Stark's role, they could have revealed something on the line of "the accident story is a cover-up, here's how he actually died". Instead, since the canon mentioned the car accident, they still went with a car accident, even though it was not "unintentional".

SPIDER-MAN BEING THE KID SAVED BY STARK IN IRON MAN 2 (SPIDER-MAN HOMECOMING, 2017)

I don't think Homecoming outright mentioned it outside of an indirect reference in its end credits, but I've always found it nice how they decided that, in Iron Man 2, when Tony Stark saves a child, that's actually a little Peter Parker.

They definitely never intended that scene to be anything more than "Iron Man saves a kid and he even does so in a way that makes them think they defeated the robot", but, since they decided to reboot altogether Spider-Man and have him at the beginning of his superhero journey, they realised that MCU Spidey had the right age to have been a child during the events of Phase 1, so they canonically made him that kid.

It also established that, technically, Spider-Man has been around since the early days of the MCU.

That reminds me of something that occurred in the Marvel comics. When they created Jessica Jones, they made her a former high school classmate of Spider-Man, and, to prove it, they took a comic from the 1960s, where, among a group of students, there's a girl who looks like Jessica, and decided that they were the same character, thus retroactivelly making her a character with about 40 years of existence despite being a new one.

THE ANCIENT ONE BEING PRESENT DURING THE BATTLE OF NEW YORK (AVENGERS: ENDGAME, 2019)

The scene from Endgame that showed how the Ancient One was in New York during the events of the original Avengers movie is a nice detail because two of the things people keep wondering in superhero movies are "why aren't other characters helping them?" and "if you were around since before the events of your film, why haven't you helped before?" (to which the usual answer would be "we obviously haven't written that movie yet back in the day so we had no idea what the characters' backstories would have been"), and Tilda Swinton's appearance averts them both.

MYSTERIO BEING INVOLVED WITH THE "B.A.R.F." TECHNOLOGY (SPIDER-MAN FAR FROM HOME, 2019)

This one is a funny retcon because of just how absurd the events that snowballed from this are. During Civil War, Tony Stark uses a special technology, which nicknamed BARF, as it showed a core memory from his youth. Three years later, Spider-Man Far From Home revealed that this invention was created by Quentin Beck, who was so angry that Stark derided it by calling it BARF and didn't even credit him that he became Mysterio.

The events of Far From Home then directly led to No Way Home, and it is just so funny that the rips in the Multiverse from that movie ultimately derive from Tony Stark trying to come up with a fun nickname for the BARF technology.

BONUS ONE: STAN LEE BEING THE WATCHER'S INFORMANT (GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY VOL. 2, 2017)

Back when Stan Lee kept appearing in MCU movies, they were simply supposed to be fun moments where he, one of the most influential and important comic book artists, would appear in a quick and funny scene. Some fans did try to speculate that those scenes were not simply there for fun, but teased something important like that he's actually the Watcher observing key events and characters.

Then, the second Guardians of the Galaxy movie decided to establish this, by having him being the Watchers' Informant. It was a nice touch, because, all of a sudden, those cameos he made across the years had a purpose. Also, since he appeared in many Non-MCU movies, he is technically the original multiversal character.

I now want to know which are your favourte MCU retcons.

[tobeornottotc]

hi, I'm really excited about Vegas arc! and about their relationship with Pete, but i’m a little worried that we're going to start seeing their story around episode 8, so do you think that will be enough time to build the relationship between them?

Hi!

There might be some spoilers here, not really mostly speculation since I don't fully know the details and I won't explain them in detail but just a warning. Thanks...

Yes same you're not the only one. There's a lot to unpack between them, and Vegas role in the KinnPorsche love story/arc takes most of the first book. But I'm intrigued because I would have thought that all we'll get with them this season, is their dark origin, mostly the only moments we see is when Pete is captured by Vegas and trapped with no escape. And then the season showing the darkness and trauma he encounters only for the end of the show to be when he's 'let go' or 'escapes'... But the Why don't you stay MV changed my mind with that because as much as people were saying those scenes attaining to them were not actually romantic for them (Vegas with the gun looking deflated and distraught, and Pete in the club looking lost), it actually is and connects to very important moments for them in the timeline after Pete is 'let go'. So we're definitely getting their full story this season or mostly all of it, and I'm intrigued by how they plan to do that. Do they plan on quickening the kidnapping situation/arc and not making Pete disappear for too long, are they cutting parts in those moments (there are some soft moments I'd like them to keep though) and adding those scenes in a different context later on when both of them are separated? I don't really know. But those scenes where Pete is crying and caressing his hand and in the club looking despondent are in a far away timeline in the books I was told. So yep, I want to see how they want to tell these two's stories. Vegas looking distraught with the gun could be because of three reasons, the two reasons/events occur after Pete is no longer being by his side, and the third could be before that timeline due to his reaction to the outcome of his role with KinnPorsche triangle (unless they're planning on doing these two storylines simultaneously which I think if they're starting in episode 8 they may)

I really think it's probably the other two reasons because there's a scene like this in the book with what looks like the same situation/context and it's very much further down the timeline too. Is 6 episodes enough to unpack that? I also kind of want to be careful when waiting for these 2, because honestly I did this with GramBlack from Not me, I waited for them and still believed they had enough time for their reunion especially since in their book it happened quick and towards the ending of the book too, and it ended up being ruined and thrown in my face as a joke, so I don't know what to expect with VegasPete.

As much as I enjoy how Vegas is written and I know it would be chaotic to analyse him and I live to see the arc I've been told about how this monster becomes tamed, (his arc is one of the greatest man!) but I actually don't like him and Pete in the book yet, despite knowing some of their moments I still can't figure out how they become what they are at the end of their arc, so I'm a bit on edge... However, the writers of the book are in control of this show, they are the ones working with the script writers to edit Kim and give him more storyline and depth and layers to Chay and his love story, they are the ones who are editing Kinn and revealing more about how he is to us in the show than how they focused more on the bl content rather than the characterisation, so Vegas will be humanised and Pete will definitely be more fleshed out. I will understand through dialogue and moments what it is that makes Pete believe this is his soulmate and the person he should embrace, I get why Vegas thinks so, I just don't understand Pete fully yet. But I think I will, which is why I'm waiting in anticipation for their story to start.

Thank you anon. Vegas and Pete's story is something I'm holding my breath for, because I've seen stories like theirs before but I feel like in those there's a lot of work to get to the end where the two are together (Immortality, Beloved enemy) and I normally understand what the other partner gets or sees to give forgiveness and believe the aggressor is their mate for life, and makes them somewhat better. With Pete and Vegas... not so much yet (but I also didn't like KinnPorsche in the book for a long time, even after the wilderness/hospital scene I understood why they'd end up together and their soft parts, I still was worried about how I'd feel about them in the show and look at me now they're my top couple and characters of this year just by episode 1-5) so I think Vegas will consume me and Pete will be understandable.

Hope you have a nice day :)

[leahseclipse]

Battle of knowledge

Pairing: Spencer Reid x male!reader

Summary: When a battle of knowledge abruptly occurs as the two known doctors meet at a case, everyone is partially amused by their hate towards the other, as they both differ their problems in quite a unusual way afterwards.

Warnings: Mentions of case, usual cm stuff���, slight sex allusions (rated T just in case the mentions happen to be something that’d be rated like that)

Word count:  1.7 k

A/N: Hey everyone!! I hope you guys are well!! I took this request from @imagining-in-the-margins as she didn’t want it, so here I am :) that fic is kind of dedicated to @ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff​ , I thought a lot about you as I wrote this fic :)! Hope everyone enjoys. (yeah the dialogue is ehhh in the first half to me, sorry for that)

        When Spencer had gone all the way from Virginia to Arizona for a case that had yet to upset the rest of his team, he didn't actually expect another person to upset him as much as the authors of the crime themselves.

The other person was known as the genius of the team, another "version" of him, except that he was in Arizona, with a slightly different rank.

He didn't think badly of him at first, he appreciated the fact of having another person similar to him, which meant that he didn't have to explain the terms he'd use to someone else, he could talk without complications.

He’d usually have to pause in his lecture to explain some stuff, but he didn’t feel like he’d need to do it with him.

"Arizona's genius, y/n y/l/n. It's nice to meet you all. I heard there's another genius here. As much as I'd like to have a nice chat, killers are on the loose, so, eventually, at the end of the case."

The way he had talked was completely fascinating to him, even if he wanted to, he couldn't draw his eyes off him as he talked. 

The first words had completely convinced them, and he really felt like he could have a correct interaction with him.

It wasn't everyday that he'd had the occasion to meet another mind similar to his. 

This happened to be quite relieving considering the complicity of the case, and it would be much faster for everything to be answered as they'll be two.

"No, he's not that type of guy! Look at what he did, especially at the third victim!" He yelled.

"We have all reasons to think he could be like that, I didn't say it definitely is, but it could be." Spencer argued, pissed off by his words.

"The M.O you just described doesn't really fit, something is missing, and none of what you said makes it right."

"It's the closest thing we have, it's that or we completely start from scratch, as if it's "wrong" to you."

"I don't think it's only to me, and it's better to try to start again than continue with what we have and possibly launch into a wall because that wasn't right. Okay, that's going to take time, but might as well get it right."

"When I expected for the case to go smoothly, I didn't come all the way for this, since when are you so annoying?"

"Oh, now I'm annoying? I'm just doing my job, and you're the one acting offended. So," He paused, as he gathered papers before walking away. "If you excuse me, I have to catch the ones doing this, instead of wasting time. Come back to me when you're in a better mood to work correctly." Y/N said, as another coworker of his approached Spencer not long after he had left. 

"Um...I doubt that'll make the situation better, but he acts like that, sometimes. It may seem that he's not going to work, but don't worry, it's mainly so he can...get himself back in the right head space." He explained. "Don't try...get pissed off at each other too often, none of our unit chiefs will be happy with that."

"He could have been less...like that."

"It's just y/l/n being himself, 'can't do much about it. Anyway, let's get back to work, and try to get better you two, at least till we wrap the case." 

"Trouble's around." Derek chirped to JJ.

"This case is going to be...fun. Let's hope we at least get to have a distraction."

"Oh, don't worry JJ, we'll have one. They're not done fighting. Definitely not."

"Do you think they're gonna make up and become friends, or yell at each other until the end?" Emily asked.

"A mix of the two. They'll kinda hate each other, but not enough to resist having a conversation between geniuses." Garcia answered.

"True. It's not every day that the both of them get to talk with someone that understands their stuff." Derek pointed out.

"Let's hope that we'll get to see some animation in between work."

*

*

        "Are you here to yell again or try to have a calm conversation?" Y/N asked, as soon as Spencer entered.

"I don't get why you're directly attacking before I get to say anything." Spencer protested.

"Just in case."

"Okay, do you have something against me or what? Because I can't work if you keep being angry all of the time."

"I'm not angry." He answered.

"Then I'm a clown if I can't even read your face. It's written on your forehead that you are, you're literally an open book." Spencer closed the door, having a slight feeling that the conversation would possibly get louder.

"I thought you weren't supposed to profile the people you work with, no? I'm not your coworker, but we're working on this case together, so don't profile me unless I ask, which will never happen." 

"I don't get you." 

"What is there even to understand? You're the one I don't get."

"It's you that I can't figure out. I just can't stand you right now."

"Unfortunately, I'm afraid you'll have to calm your nerves till we finish that case. Because I'm not wasting twenty minutes explaining what is there to "understand" about me." He spit back, glancing at Spencer.

"I can't keep talking with you if you act like that."

"I'm not a cute puppy in case you haven't figured that out. I'm not going to be nice just for you, especially when you point out that I'm not how you like to be talked." 

"I didn't specify anything."

"Didn't you, doctor?" He focused on the last word, raising his eyebrows.

"Damn it." Spencer walked up to him in a snap, glancing at him for a split second before suddenly taking in his face in his hands as he roughly kissed him.

Not even one of them expected that it'd just take a single argument to let the pressure out.

They were just kissing each other, like that. Spencer was the one who started it, not even wondering if he'd return it or walk away, but turns out that y/n had been the one to take the lead after that, as he gripped his hair, slamming him against the wall.

Nothing really mattered in that moment, they didn't even think about the others possibly walking in, all they both needed to do was to let out of all the frustration contained since this morning.

It wasn't quite only anger, but also because they had both wanted each other, in their own way.

As much as Y/N was afraid to admit it, he did imagine it, slamming him against the wall, even if he wouldn't be strong or even courageous enough to do that.

Spencer did imagine gripping his jaw, especially after he walked out in fury, he was so upset about him that all he wanted was to kiss him to let him know what he felt.

He didn't want to admit it, but he hated it whenever someone raised his voice at him, he needed to do that to calm himself, in some way.

If they weren't in some police station, their shirts would have already been on the floor, the layers of clothes between them were more than infuriating as they tugged at the other's shirt.

And even when they stopped for a moment to breathe again, it didn't take much for their lips to link again after a short glance.

Spencer quickly flipped y/n the other way so he'd be the one against the wall, and to his surprise, his face quickly gained another tint.

He caged him in with one arm against the wall, gripping his chin with the other, as y/n tugged at his hair again, not knowing where else to put them.

Things went fast so quickly, they didn't even think about what they'd do, they just went with the flow.

What they forgot to think and pay attention about, was that they weren't alone in the place.

Literally all of the people working at the station were there, and could possibly start to look for them.

They really didn't care about it, none of them broke the kiss to point it out, it was just four walls, them, and their mixed feelings.

"I still can't stand you." Spencer said in between when they briefly broke the kiss.

"Me neither." He blurted out.

As one of them probably guessed at some point, their inattention cost them when they didn't even hear the lock of the door over their breaths.

"Hey, we found…" JJ walked in, stopping in the middle of the sentence. 

The door kept itself open, as the noise of the outside drew in, causing them to break away as both of their eyes were wide open.

Spencer's hair was a mess, strands going everywhere, which would need to be at least fixed with his hand for him to be presentable. 

Only the back of y/n's hair was messed up as he was against the wall most of the time.

Both of their shirts had a few buttons out, although, y/n's was the closest to being on the floor if someone hadn't come.

By the time they had begun slowly walking away from the other, she had definitely just seen them making out.

"...something." She ended the sentence, not quite knowing what to say after witnessing the event.

"Oh, uh...we'll uh...meet you in just a sec." Spencer said.

"Right. Okay." JJ responded, closing the door in a hurry.

"I hate to say this to you, but I think we're screwed." Y/N pointed out once she was gone.

"They'll definitely be able to tell from the look on her face and ours when we'll get out."

"Yeah, we should have…done it elsewhere."

"It's a bit late for that."

"You're the one who started, you should have at least chosen another place genius." 

"I have to admit it but, true."

"They'll definitely figure out you're the one who started, you basically entered after me."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't. You just don't like me." He corrected Spencer, as he opened the door to walk out, walking out of the room.

It didn't take much for some of their coworkers's eyes to lay on them as they entered their vision.

Spencer discreetly approached y/n after Hotch began talking, making sure the attention was elsewhere.

"I'm going to show you how much I 'just don't like you' when we're out of here, you're gonna see."

"Deal."

*

*

[silverbyeol]

When We Collide - Tom Holland

Summary: A close encounter with death, brings on a new relationship (This summary sucks, but I don’t want to give anything away) 

Author’s Note: Not sure if this classifies as angst, but the ending is kind of sad... but lots of fluff all throughout! 

Word Count: 3.6K

“That’s a wrap for today everyone, have a good day and I’ll see you all on Friday,” the male producer said, there was some light mumbling throughout the cast and everyone disbursed soon after.

“Hey, Tom!” yelled a male voice, stopping the brunette in his tracks, “Would you like to hang out with us? We’re going to grab some drinks at a pub?” Tom looked over at the owner of the voice, one of his co-stars.

“I would, but I already have plans for today. Definitely next time,” the male replied with a smile. Truth be told, Tom didn’t really have any important plans. They were shooting a movie in London and all Tom wanted to do was walk around and enjoy the feeling of being home for a while.

The male walked into his trailer and changed out of the outfit he wore on set and into something more comfortable, jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He checked himself out in the mirror and, before leaving the set, put on a black cap and dark shades, to mask his identity. It was nice to get away from fame and responsibilities for a while and just lead a somewhat normal life.

The streets of London were always busy with people walking about, minding their business, and tourists snapping pictures of every nook and cranny. The weather was gloomy today and there was really no reason to wear shades outside. He probably looked crazy, but Tom went unrecognized as he made his way towards his favourite cafe- ready to enjoy some afternoon tea and maybe even read a book. The cafe was located in a part of London that was rarely crowded. The brunette turned a corner, and there it was; the cafe was standing just across the street. He stopped at the pedestrian crossing, waiting for the signal to turn green.

On the other side of the street stood a young female. She had a pair of over-ear headphones on and wasn’t really paying attention to her surroundings. The male looked her over, admiring how cute she was. She had a black and white striped top on, paired with black cargo jeans, and a black Nike duffle bag across her chest. She looked as if she was coming back from the fitness center. The light turned green for them to cross and the female looked both ways to make sure there were no other cars. She quickly looked back at her phone, missing the vehicle that was speeding down the road.

Everything moved so fast. She was about to get hit and without thinking, the male took off running towards her, ready to push her out of the way. Everything started moving in slow motion and for a split second, he saw her eyes widen with fear as she looked up from her phone and noticed the situation unfolding. Tom quickly grabbed the girl's waist, lunging the two onto the ground, right in front of the coffee shop.

‘This definitely hurts less at the studio…’ he thought and fluttered open his eyes, meeting fearful e/c ones.

“Are you okay?” the female asked as she lay on top of Tom.

“I’m fine. No big deal,” he grunted out. It was actually a big deal… His head and back hurt from the fall and his hands were scraped from sliding on the concrete. “Are you okay?” he in turn asked her as he scanned her face for any injuries.

“I’m fine… I- ermm…” she stuttered and quickly got off the males body, sitting down on the ground next to him, “Thank you- I don’t- Everything just happened so fast…” she said with a shaky voice as if the events finally hit her. The car was long gone and there were no other people walking by as the incident occured.

“What a bloody arsehole, he shouldn’t have been going so fast,” Tom said and frowned. The female's things were all over the ground and right in the middle of them were his sunglasses. His eyes met with the girls, yet she seemed to not recognize that he was famous, “Are you hurt? Should we go to the hospital?” he questioned, concerned about her well-being.

“I’m alright. Thank you… I’m not sure how I could ever repay you for saving my life… you even got hurt,” she said as she studied his scraped hands.

“There’s no need. What’s your name?”

“Y/n.” she answered and the couple stood up from the ground.

“I’m Tom. Pleasure.” he replied, looking into her eyes for any sign of recognition, but nothing.

“Can I at least buy you a cuppa or coffee?” she asked and motioned towards the shop. Tom warmly smiled at her.

“Sure.” The two grabbed their things and collected themselves before going into the shop.

“Welcome! What can I get started for you two?” asked the barista. Tom and the female awkwardly approached the counter.

“I’ll have a flat white, please,” the female by his side said.

“Two of those,” Tom added. Y/n started digging in her bag, most likely looking for her wallet.

“10 pounds.” the barista said and Tom swiftly handed the barista the orange/brown coloured bill.

“Wait… what are you-” Y/n said in confusion.

“Let’s go sit down,” Tom interrupted and led the two towards an empty table.

“You’re way too kind…” Y/n said when the pair sat down. Tom chuckled.

“Making you pay wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me.” the female smiled at him and the barista came over to the table, setting down two small cups.

“Thank you.” they both said and Y/n picked up the cup and took a small sip, making Tom stare. Being a celebrity, he never had meaningful conversations with strangers. Everyone either wanted a photo or autograph, so it was hard for the male to make connections with regular people.

“What's up with the shades?” she asked, hoping to see more of the strangers' faces.

“Oh....” Tom mumbled and took off his glasses and cap. There was no one in the shop besides the pair, it was fangirl free, “It’s a habit.”

“Makes you look kind of dodgy...”

“Does it…?” he mumbled more to himself than the girl. She looked more calm than before as if the incident was long forgotten. He picked up his mug and took a sip of the hot liquid. Y/n took a second to examine the male. He had brown hair and a pair of matching brown eyes. His baby face made him look like a puppy. He was cute. Her eyes traveled to his arms, they were slightly veiny, he was most likely fit and worked out a lot. Her eyes looked at his hands that were red and had scratches from the fall.

“Tell me about yourself,” Tom said, wanting to keep the mood light.

“Me? I’m honestly not that interesting…” she said and looked down at her lap, “I’m a ballet dancer, I don’t really have time for much else…” she continued, picking up Tom’s interest.

“You dance? I took ballet classes when I was a child. I was even in the Billy Elliot musical-” Tom said and suddenly felt nervous. (Y/n) didn’t seem to know who he was. It was nice to be normal and treated like a regular human, not a famous actor, “when I was in secondary school,” he added.

(Y/n) looked up with interest, “I didn’t realize you were done with school… you look so young,”

“I’m actually 24,” Tom said. The female looked at him with wide eyes.

“You look so young…” she repeated and Tom took another sip of his coffee, “Did the ballet thing work out for you or are you pursuing different things?” This was Tom’s chance to tell the female that he was a famous actor.

“No, I decided to do other things,” he started. He decided that he liked the feeling of being unknown, “I work on movie sets… bunch of random things, honestly.”

“That’s cool. Do you get to meet a lot of celebrities?”

“Yeah… you could say that.”

The two sat in the coffee shop until the sky turned dark, talking about anything and everything. The longer the two talked, the more Tom started to fancy the female. Despite what she thought, she was interesting and very kind. He never met someone like her, and he definitely wanted to keep getting to know her.

“It’s almost 9…” she said with a tired sigh, “I should get going. I have rehearsals in the morning.”

“I should get going too…” Tom said, slightly disappointed…

“Despite the circumstances, it was so nice to meet you, Tom. Thank you for saving me.” she said and started getting up. He didn’t want their conversation to end, if she let him, Tom wanted to keep in touch with the female.

“Wait!” he called out and she looked at him, sitting back down, “Do you mind if I get your number? I would love to take you out on a date, or just hang out,” there was a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

“Ummm… yeah- of course…” (Y/n) felt her cheeks get warm. It’s been a while since someone asked her for her number or even asked her out on a date. Tom gave her his phone and she typed her number in.

“Have a goodnight, (Y/n).”

“Have a goodnight, Tom.”

Tom could not concentrate on set. All he could think about was the girl with the e/c coloured eyes. After the encounter, Tom texted the female that night to make sure she made it home safe. Ever since, they’ve been sending messages back and forth constantly. He wanted to take the girl out on a proper date, but that was slightly difficult. Public spaces meant lots of potential fangirls and the male was not ready to reveal his status yet.

“Holland!” yelled a strict male voice making Tom come out his daydream.

“Sir?”

“What’s the matter with you?” the director asked, annoyed that they had to reshoot the same scene for the fifth time.

“Sorry… I’ve got a lot on my mind.” he replied, making the director sigh in defeat.

“Alright. Why don’t you take the week off, yeah?”

“Oh, okay.” he replied, his thoughts going back to Y/n.

“And make sure you come back to Earth by then!” the male yelled and stormed off, annoyed about having to make a new shooting schedule for the week. Tom reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone:

Tom: Would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow?

Tom: Totally fine if you don’t

Tom: Don’t want to pressure you

To say that the male felt stupid was an understatment. Why was he so nervous? He barely knew this girl for a week and she made him feel like a teenager who was helplessly chasing their crush around. He looked at the screen, three little dots appeared and a message suddenly popped up:

Y/n: I would like that

Tom: Great! I’ll pick you up at 6! Text me your postal address.

Tom sat on the sofa in Y/n’s flat as they watched Citizen Kane on her small telly. The female was laid down, her legs laying on top of his as she balanced a big bowl of popcorn on her belly, occasionally munching on the snack. Tom looked away from the noir film, his attention purely on his girlfriend. The pair have been dating for nearly half a year and Y/n was still unaware that her boyfriend was an A list celebrity. Of course, Tom wanted to tell her, but they’ve already gotten so far into their relationship that he was scared of how she might react to the news.

“You know… I’ve never been to your flat,” the female said and stuffed some popcorn into her mouth, never taking her eyes off the telly.

“Is that something you would like to do?” Tom questioned.

“I mean… We always spend time here. Why haven’t you invited me over? Are you hiding a secret family from me?” her eyes met his and he saw the playful gleam behind her orbs.

“You caught me. My wife and kids wouldn’t be too happy to find out that I enjoy spending my time more with my mistress than them,” Y/n picked up a piece of popcorn and threw it at him, landing it right in the middle of his forehead.

“That’s what you get, Mr. Holland… or is that even your real name?” she said glaring at him, but a smile was plastered on her lips. Tom grabbed the bowl of popcorn from her belly and placed it down on the floor. He quickly got on top of her, using his forearms as support to hover over her.

“Would you like to come over tomorrow then? I could cook us dinner?” he questioned as he looked all over her face, admiring every little detail.

“That sounds lovely. Your wife and kids won’t mind?” she giggled.

“No. I’ll make sure they’re out by the time you get there,” he said and dipped down to capture her lips.

Tom was nervous about his girlfriend coming over, and not because he had a secret family. Tom did not mind that his girlfriend lived in a flat that only had one small bedroom and a common area, nor was he worried about her being materialistic and only keeping him around for the money. She didn’t have much, but she liked to spoil him with small gifts here and there with whatever money she had left from her paycheck. It was bad enough that he drove around in a Porsche, but he lived in a luxurious two story flat on the outskirts of London. If she were to ask questions, how was he supposed to explain where his wealth came from? What if there were paparazzis situated outside his home? He wanted to tell her about being Spider-man on his own time and this could potentially out him.

“I thought you lived closer to the city…” Y/n said looking out the window, watching as they got further from the center of London.

“I prefer staying out of London… It’s always so crowded and the traffic is horrible.” he replied as he pulled into the carpark. Y/n smiled in anticipation. The building of the flats looked really modern, as if they were built recently. She knew that this place must have been expensive to live in. The couple walked inside the building, his hand on the small of her back as he led her towards the lift.

“Mr. Holland.” the doorman greeted, with a kind smile.

“John. Good evening.”

Once inside the lift, Tom swiped his key card and pressed the button for the highest floor. Y/n looked around, slightly feeling out of place. She knew that Tom worked in the film industry, but she didn’t expect him to be loaded. The door to the lift opened and the girl's eyes went wide with shock as she was met with a spacious flat and huge windows that were facing towards the center of London.

“Woah… You said you did what?” the female questioned as she looked out the window.

“I work on movie sets… which reminds me,” he said and came up behind the female, wrapping his arms around her middle, “There is a private screening tonight of the movie I was working on when we first met. It would mean a lot to me, if you came along to watch it.” he said, kissing his girlfriend's cheek.

“Am I allowed to?”

“Of course. You’re my plus one, love…”

The couple finished their dinner before going to see the private screening. Most movies would be shown to the cast and crew before they officially premiered in Hollywood. This showing was meant for the UK team only. This was the moment that Tom would confess who he actually was. His heart was pounding against his chest as he and Y/n sat down in the chairs in the screen room. There were only five others there.

“What’s this movie about?” questioned the female.

“Superheroes.” Tom responded with a bit of a smirk on his face. This was going to be the first time he’s seen the final product, so he wasn’t completely sure when Peter Parker was going to make an appearance. The Marvel logo played and transitioned into a poor quality memorial video of all the Avengers that died during the Thanos battle. The scene continued with two teens as they were giving a morning announcement to their school. Tom looked over at his girlfriend who looked confused, she must not have watched any of the marvel movies. The scene ended and there he was… It was always weird seeing your own face on a big screen.

“I have a plan!” his character started, talking about how he was going to woo MJ in Paris. Tom looked over to his right. Y/n had her mouth wide open as she watched her boyfriend speak in an American accent. She looked at the screen and slowly turned her head to look at her boyfriend as if trying to confirm that it was the same person. Five minutes into the movie and there he was in his Spider-man suit talking at a fundraiser. Y/n grabbed her bag and abruptly stood up, walking out of the screening room, having seen enough.

“Shit…” Tom mumbled and raced after her, “Love, wait!” he yelled, but the female kept walking until she got outside. Not knowing where to go, she stopped in her tracks, “Y/n…”

“You’re Spiderman…” she muttered lowly and Tom almost didn’t catch it.

“I-” he started saying, but she quickly cut him off.

“This is mental. You’re Spiderman and you forgot to mention that your job entails you to actually be the main character in the film?” she said and turned around to look at him. She looked sad, almost disappointed. Tom was at a loss for words.

“You’ve nothing to say?” she tutted and started walking in a random direction, away from the male.

“Babe! Wait!” he yelled and ran up to stand in front of her to block her way, “I was scared okay… Everyone who I ever meet on the street wants a photo or autograph. When I met you, you made me feel normal for once, not like I’m some object that belongs in a museum. I know that keeping this from you was bad and I am truly sorry,” her eyes sparkled in understanding as she listened to the male speak, “I don’t want to lose you.” he ended, his eyes slightly glossy. Y/n sighed and leaned over to give him a kiss. He grabbed her waist and pulled her closer to him, fearing that this would be the last time he would be able to feel her lips.

“I understand if you want to break up-”

“Shut up and kiss me, you bloody git.” the female giggled, making Tom smile and lean in for another kiss.

…

“Don’t lie to me ever again.”

“Never.”

It’s been about five years since the couple started dating. Tom was ready to ask Y/n to marry him. He was going to propose on their anniversary, but he wasn’t sure how or where; all he knew was that he was ready to call her his forever. The male walked into their shared bedroom where the future Mrs. Holland was already in, laying under the covers, dozing off. He slipped in and pulled her close to his chest.

“I love you, Y/n.” he whispered as he kissed her neck, earning a tired reply…

“I love you, too…”

~~~~~

   "He's waking up!"

   "Tom!"

   "Can you hear us?"

   "TOM!" slowly his eyes opened and he met a white ceiling.

   "Where am I?" he groaned and looked over to the side, his mom was there looking at the male in worry.

   "You're in the hospital, Tom. You've been in a coma for six months..." his mother said in a calm voice as tears spilled from her eyes.    

   "Mum? Where's Y/n? I need to see her, is she okay?" Tom questioned as he tried to get out of bed. His head was pounding as he tried to recall the accident.

“Woah… you need to stay in bed, Thomas. Who’s Y/n?” his mother asked, concerned.

“My girlfriend… I was going to propose to her.” Tom let out.

“I’m going to go get a doctor. Please don’t move.” his mother said and left the room.

“What happened?” Tom groaned and he held his head.

“Your director called us after you didn’t show up for the shooting…” spoke up his brother, Harry, who was sitting on a chair, on the opposite side where his mother just stood, “You and some girl got hit by a car just outside a shop in London.”

“Coffee shop?” Tom questioned, his headache starting to ease.

“Yeah…” Harry said.

“Where’s the girl?” Tom questioned, curious what was happening.

“Just in the other room. They haven't been able to identify her.” Harry finished, concerned about his brother.

“Can you take me to her?”

“You just woke up… No way…” Harry said as he frowned at the older male.

“I need to see her…” Tom pleaded, making his brother sigh. Harry got up from the chair and rolled over a wheelchair that was located on the other side of the room. He helped his brother on it and wheeled him towards the room next door. The pair of brothers stopped just outside a window that looked into a patient's room. The shape of her face, the colour of her hair- everything about her was so familiar. She had lost a little colour on her skin, probably due to being in a coma and light bruises littered her body. He couldn’t see the colour of the girl’s eyes, but he was sure that he recognized her.

   She was the same girl who Tom was going to propose to. That girl was Y/n...

Thanks for reading, lovely~ 

[cupofteaguk]

let the games begin

PART OF THE REPUTATION SERIES

summary: in hindsight, acting out against prankster Jung Hoseok wasn’t entirely good for your sanity. after all, it’s not very fun to have hiccough sweet mixed in with your morning breakfast—a feat that goes about as well as one would think. 

pairing: hoseok x fem!reader 

genre: hogwarts au, pranskter!hoseok, enemies to lovers | fluff 

warnings: there’s mention of Nayeon in this fic and yes it’s the same Nayeon from new romantics because i love crossovers lol, talks about Hogwarts curriculum (definitely not technically accurate but I tried my best), slow burn, ~banter~

word count: 19.5k 

a/n: a birthday fic for jung hoseok <3 

.

As soon as his name is called, a silence falls across the dungeon as students stand a little straighter and become a little more alert to the situation about to unfold. Murmurs rise up amongst the crowd as people look around, stand on tippy-toes, poke their head up, all trying to seek out the owner of the name—the brash individual who has piqued interest and has guaranteed an excellent show of skill for today’s lesson.  

There’s a moment of silence, before a hand raises briefly into the air. “Present, professor.” It’s a voice from the back, a low tone but full of confidence. All the eyes flicker towards the source, a boy stepping away from his group of friends in order to walk towards the center of the room. At the center sits a long table, stretching across the expanse of the class. The surface is colored blue with decorations of wands and colliding spells, explosions of rainbow patterns. The perfect backdrop for a dueling lesson. 

“Ah, wonderful Mr. Jung!” The professor announces, curling her fingers into each other. Professor Wong is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who has recently employed a dueling class once a week as part of her curriculum to interweave real life practices with academic intentions. 

For every single duel that has been conducted, it’s always the same: pair two students against each other who have one assignment: disarm the other. There’s always a comment on the form, always a comment on the reflexes of the participants, and never a repeat of students who are volunteered for the activity. 

With the exception of this one. 

Jung Hoseok steps onto the table with practiced ease, his arm sweeping his cape back so he can step towards the center of the table. A light flurry of giggles pass through the air, of students already in awe of a move as simple as moving his cape. Hoseok doesn’t react outwardly to the shower of affection, he merely looks down to fiddle with the rings that decorate his longer fingers. 

“And the student who will go against Mr. Jung today is…” Professor Wong refers down to her parchment. “Kim Mingyu. Mr. Kim?” 

For a brief second, silence envelops the room until a distant voice is heard. “Oh fuck, Professor Wong is trying to get me killed.” 

Professor Wong lowers her parchment. “Language, Mr. Kim. And facing off against Mr. Jung shouldn’t be a problem—his form is good but you’ve had weeks to study the art of dueling from previous students who have come up before you.” She pauses for a moment as Mingyu makes his way towards the center of the room. “And I have every confidence that you’ve been preparing.” She lowers her neck to fix him with beady eyes. “Did I presume correctly, Mr. Kim?” 

Mingyu hoists himself up onto the table, managing an uneasy smile. “Of course, professor.” 

“Filling me with confidence as always, Mr. Kim.” Professor Wong sighs. But she steps off the table and whirls around to address the two now situated atop the dueling table. “Now, the purpose of this duel is to provide real world context to this aspect of wizard combat. You two are not to injure each other but simply disarm your opponent. Nonverbal spells or verbal spells are allowed. Now, you know the rules. You may begin.” 

Hoseok turns to Mingyu as the pair approach each other, the air weighing down in tension and anticipation. Once in the middle, the two bow before turning around and making their way to their respected ends of the table. Mingyu shuffles around nervously, while Hoseok whirls with the spin of his robe. 

Mingyu launches first, stepping forward as a bright burst of light flickers out from the end of his wand and zaps straight towards Hoseok. A nonverbal attempt at expelliarmus—one that is immediately thwarted by Hoseok’s deflection. The light of the spell reflects off, creating a sound of hollow space, before the pair are once again back to where they started. 

Hoseok attacks next, his own silent spell flying towards Mingyu, who mirrors a shield charm. But Hoseok steps forward and another attack flies at Mingyu, who has to step back hastily to reflect the spell. The latter boy looks exhausted, as nonverbal spells are still a challenging subject to master. Most seventh year students have the concept of casting spells nonverbally down, but require more practice beyond what a single year can provide. A lot of it comes down to practice, discipline, and mental fortitude—all things that Mingyu is losing hold of right now. 

His opponent, however, doesn’t seem to be losing steam. Hoseok merely narrows his eyes and continues stepping forward. With every step he takes, he attacks with yet another expelliarmus spell aimed at Mingyu. After the second spell, Mingyu has reached the end of the table before the wand flies out of his hand. In the midst of the confusion, his foot slips off the edge and everyone gasps as Mingyu teeters, about to fall.  

Bringing his wand towards him, Hoseok brings an end table from the other side of the room, lining it up to the edge of the long table so Mingyu has an additional surface to step on. The latter boy stumbles but maintains his footing at the higher ground. 

Hoseok smiles slightly. “I can’t have you breaking your back during a disarming duel.” 

There is a moment of stunned silence from Hoseok’s save, but as soon as the silence passes, the crowd erupts into claps and cheers. 

“A wonderful benchmark for fair dueling practices once again, Mr. Jung,” Professor Wong starts up again as she steps onto the table. She waits for Mingyu to step back onto the main long table, waits for Mingyu and Hoseok to bow to each other again, before she’s turning back to the class. “Alright class, what did we learn from today’s duel?” 

As the class engages in conversation about what has just occurred, several gazes flint over to Jung Hoseok. The boy appears calm and composed as always, making sure to pocket his wand before he’s running fingers through his hair and creating a curtain in his hair that exposes his forehead. Several more giggles arise from the movement. No doubt the conversations would carry on after the class time about Jung Hoseok is confident, posed, and absolutely—! 

. 

“Dreamy…” Nayeon sighs as she finishes recounting the events of the duel to you, ending it on the kind of note that makes you want to stab yourself with a fork. “You should have seen him—it’s like he gave Mingyu a chance to go on the offensive before Hoseok just tore into him. How do you think he did it? I’ve never seen anyone our year be able to conjure up so many nonverbal spells in a row.” 

“Seems like Jung Hoseok never has anything better to do than learn that shit,” You grumble under your breath as the pair of you step into the next lesson of the day: potions. Your statement is dripping in sarcasm because it’s entirely false. Jung Hoseok can conjure up many nonverbal spells in a row for a variety of reasons, and most of those reasons have nothing to do with burying his head into a book. 

Nayeon doesn’t seem to hear you as she slides into the seat next to yours to continue gushing about how attractive Hoseok had looked sweeping his robe back or pushing the hair out of his face. Although talking about Hoseok makes your eyes roll all the way back into your skull, you indulge her infatuation because she’s a friend. A new friend, but still a friend regardless. 

Nayeon is the Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Despite the six previous years spent in the same castle, Nayeon is not someone you were very familiar with as you were growing up. The pair of you just ran in different social circles throughout the previous years, and her popularity as a player for the house team has always made her seem like some faceless figure in your conversations with other people. That is, until a few weeks ago when you ran into Nayeon leaving a party in the Room of Requirements. It was after the first Quidditch game of the season—Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor, and Gryffindor had lost out on the opportunity to advance to the next round. 

To be fair, Jeon Jungkook is a monster on the Quidditch field. 

Regardless, Nayeon had gone to the party and had been seconds away from being caught by Head Boy Min Yoongi had she not run into you heading back from the library. You saved her from detention that night, had played along with her claim that the pair of you were partners for some upcoming project. As the pair of you were walking back to your respected houses, you both made good conversation and decided to start hanging out in between classes. Nayeon is unlike some of the other friends you have within the castle walls—she’s much more outspoken and extroverted, but she is really sweet which is why you’re indulging her the way you are right now. 

Because despite Nayeon’s parading of how cool and amazing Jung Hoseok is, he definitely is not. 

“Yeah, wasn’t I so cool? Mingyu tried his best, but he just couldn’t handle me coming after him with my spells.” 

You sigh through your teeth, and don’t even bother watching as Jung Hoseok himself appears in the potions classroom. His Slytherin friend Park Jimin is at his side, and they both slide into the seat behind you as Hoseok continues to brag about his victory during the dueling match. 

This carries on for a little before the potion lessons start. In preparation for the upcoming N.E.W.T.s, there are less students and higher expectations than ever before—all lessons expertly crafted to help students prepare for their examinations. 

And it all starts here: with an assignment from the professor to construct a potion for dreamless sleep. “Some of you might need this in the coming months, depending on how many N.E.W.T.s you have to take,” He had remarked humorlessly, before sending the class off on their own. As with many classes during a seventh year at Hogwarts, students are usually left to their own devices to finish up whatever assignment may be in store for them. 

In the case of the potions class, it’s typical to get an ingredient or a potion to either write a paper on or recreate the mixture where a grade would be received on the spot. For today’s potion, ingredients are situated in the back and the textbook on Advanced Potion Making in the reference tool. With everything set up, you go off to gather your ingredients before returning back to your desk. After setting up your cauldron, you get to work setting up your station. 

As you’re turning around to gather your textbook from your bag, an unwelcome figure approaches his own desk in order to set his own materials down atop the table. He notices you immediately, and flashes you a smile. “Hey Y/N, you should have seen me today in my Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I kicked ass at our dueling lesson.” 

“Unfortunately for you Jung Hoseok, I’m not taking that class,” You sneer, whirling back around to focus on your current assignment, trying to focus. You can do this. Every grade distributed in your classes is important and you cannot afford to be distracted. 

“You mean Dark Arts isn’t in your wheelhouse,” Hoseok says as soon as you’ve tried to settle yourself into a comfortable silence. Nayeon watches from next to you, eyes flickering in confusion between the two of you. 

You turn back around to give him a sweet smile. “Herbologists aren’t required to have a Dark Arts N.E.W.T. Not that matters much, since it doesn’t affect you in any way.” 

You turn around, staring down your first ingredient of the day: a sopophorous bean that needs to be cut in order for the juices to help with the construction of the potion. 

As you start your chopping (or attempting your chopping), Park Jimin’s voice resumes from behind you. “So how exactly were you able to go like three nonstop nonverbal spells against Mingyu? Doesn’t that require a lot of concentration? At least, according to the textbooks.” 

“It does,” Hoseok answers. “But I like to think I’ve had a lot of practice in casting spells. It requires a lot of mental commitment and you really have to think about what spell you’re trying to use as you’re using it. Luckily, I think my skills are pretty solid so Professor Wong is pretty smart in having me be a good reference point—!” 

Unable to take it anymore, you place your knife down on the table and turn around once more to face the two boys behind you. Hoseok and Jimin look up, but you only focus your attention on Hoseok. “Jung Hoseok,” You seethe. “Some people are actually trying to do well on these assignments and pass this class so we can set ourselves up for success. Not everyone here is protected by a family name.” 

At your final sentence, the people within hearing range react immediately. Jimin’s eyes widen as he lowers his own knife to study you. Even Nayeon looks over her shoulder to stare at you. 

Hoseok, however, just raises an eyebrow at your attack. He takes in a breath of thinly veiled frustration before giving you a nod. “Fair enough. Focusing is really important in class, I get it. Here.” He picks up his wand from his desk and gives it a wave. “Consider this water under the bridge.” 

Your eyes follow the movement of his wand with narrowed eyes, before you turn back around without saying a word. You turn back to your ingredients, not thinking anything of it as you manage a clean cut through the sopophorous bean. You pick it up, sprinkle it into the cauldron—! 

And the contents inside immediately implode. You jump, Nayeon screams, and the ends of Hoseok’s lips tug up into a grin. 

Professor Slughorn is at your table. “What seems to be the problem, Miss. Y/N? Put the wrong ingredient into the potion so soon?” 

“N-No professor, I promise!” You stammer, frantically sorting through your materials before settling on the pages of the textbook you’ve been referring to. “It says to put the juices of the sopophorous bean into the cauldron first. I did and it just—I don’t know…” You continue, borderline helpless as your eyes shift. 

Professor Slughorn is quiet for a moment before he leans forward to pick up one of the ingredients you have on the table. He observes it before placing it back down. “No worries, Miss. Y/N. It seems like your ingredients have been tampered with—with an aging charm no less. If ingredients like these are past a certain threshold, they lose their magical properties and end up damaging the potion. I know you wouldn’t do such a thing, so go ahead and grab the correct ingredients once more—Mr. Jung?” 

Hoseok falters slightly with his own mixing as Professor Slughorn turns to face him this time. 

“Now, Mr. Jung, just a quick word.” He lowers his chin to give Hoseok a more beady look. “Considering the wastefulness you’ve treated my ingredients, I am partial to just removing you from class for today. But I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Next time I’d be a little more mindful about picking up my wand before threatening another student. Just detention for you this time, Mr. Jung.” 

Hoseok hardly seems fazed by the punishment, like he has been expecting it. He lowers his head slightly. “I’ll be more careful, professor.” 

Professor Slughorn walks away, unable to see the wink Hoseok throws at you, unable to see the way your lips part in realization and the way your teeth clench together. Because Jung Hoseok has done it again. 

. 

“Argh!” You scream, bringing your curled fists up to your hair, ignoring the curious glances you receive from your classmates. The fingers land into the strands as you make an extra note not to pull too hard. “I’m gonna kill Jung Hoseok one day, mark my words.” You catch Nayeon’s wide-eyed stare. “He’s not that pretty to look at, come on.” 

Nayeon blinks for a moment, before her lips curl into a smile. “You seem to know Hoseok pretty well.” 

You groan. “I’d rather not go into it right now, I think I’ll burst a vein in my forehead.” 

Nayeon keeps quiet at that, giving you the few seconds you think you mentally recover from the day. You did manage to get your potion done for the day, no thanks to Hoseok, and now you and Nayeon are walking through the outdoor pathway that drops off into the courtyard. The greenery is fresh underneath your shoes as you and Nayeon continue until you see another familiar figure laying atop a picnic blanket with a book in her hand. 

But this time, rather than irritation, the sight of this person brings a smile to your face. You exhale the last bit of your frustration. “Sana!” You sing, quickening your pace with Nayeon following closely behind you. 

Sana looks up from her reading material and waves wildly at the two of you. “Hey guys, how was class?” 

“Pretty calm,” Nayeon starts as she carefully slips off her shoes and steps onto the blanket Sana had laid out. “Until someone got into a fight with Jung Hoseok.” 

Sana gives you a side glance. “What did he do this time?” 

Nayeon blinks, having not expected that. “Wait, you know about that?” 

Sana laughs, gesturing to you with the point of her book. “They’ve had bad blood since year one. Jung Hoseok has done a few hair-pulling pranks throughout his Hogwarts career. Sometimes they’ve affected just one person or sometimes they’ve affected a whole dormitory. But Y/N is usually caught in the middle of it all and thinks that Hoseok is full of shit.” 

“Whoa, whoa, wait, what stuff? I’ve heard of a few pranks going off in the Hufflepuff Common Room and an incident with house arrangements but I didn’t think—!” Nayeon starts. 

“Yep, all Hoseok’s fault,” You cut in, digging into your bag and pulling out a bag of food. 

Nayeon’s eyes light up. “Sounds like there’s a lot of tea to unpackage then—I honestly figured something was up. Hoseok seemed to know exactly how to push your buttons and your insult about his family name seemed very specific. What was that all about by the way?” 

You give her a look as you rip apart your bread. “Oh that’s right, I forgot that a lot of people outside of Hufflepuff don’t really know Hoseok’s history. But I’m sure you know about the Jung family line in the Auror department.” 

Aurors were highly trained law enforcement officials who dealt with crimes relating to the Dark Arts and the dark witches and wizards who engaged in that dangerous magic. The training to obtain an auror position was known for being vigorous and intense and the reputation of the job was even more so. Despite that, wizards and witches who worked as an Auror were highly respected. It’s usually rare for even one wizard from a family to become an auror, but to have an entire family with the skills, talent, and grades to become an auror is a rarity in of itself. 

Knowing that, Nayeon nods. “Of course. The Jungs are legends. Not only did they have generations of family members both heads and regular aurors in the department, but they have such an impressive streak of finding dark witches and wizards. But wait—are you saying—?” 

“That Hoseok is from that Jung family? Yes, one hundred percent.” 

Nayeon’s lips part as her eyes widen. “Wow, that’s pretty crazy. I’m guessing Hoseok is expected to become an auror too.” 

“At this point, just being a Jung is enough to probably get him in. He just needs to get the right number of N.E.W.T.s and he’ll be smooth sailing. I don’t even think he’ll need the grades to get in.” You move around in your blanket so you’re resting on your stomach. “That’s why I think Hoseok is full of shit. He doesn’t take school seriously because of his family. His job and way of living has already been predetermined, so he just spends his time creating havoc everywhere he goes and literally dampening everyone else’s day with his horrible pranks. Seriously, now that I think about it, he pulled some crazy shit once a year.” 

“Oh, like remember that time during first year when he set off a dung bomb in the Hufflepuff common room?” Sana asks, shuttering at the thought. “Sometimes when I close my eyes I can still smell the bomb in my nose. It was awful. The smell was in the room for days.” 

Intrigued, Nayeon listens in as you and Sana briefly recount the annual party of pranks Hoseok created for everyone around him, or for you more specifically. 

In second year, while trying to impress a student, Hoseok tried levitating a bottle of ink into the air during a lesson but lost control of the bottle. The actions caused the ink to spill all over your white blouse, colored with an ink so poignant that it required help from the Headmistress. You doubt Hoseok even knew you existed before then. 

In third year, Hoseok spread quick dry glue all over one of the moving staircases—a product that, like the name implies, dries quickly when activated by the movement of a person, place, or thing. Unfortunately, you and Sana had been the person, place, or thing, to arrive atop the moving staircases. It was following a post-dinner bliss, seeing you and Sana trying to head back to the Hufflepuff common room before the plan was promptly thwarted by glue. 

“Oh hello there, I remember you,” Hoseok had said, teary eyed and grinning from his previous laughter—just appearing from the shadows. “I spilled ink on you last year, nice to meet you!” 

It had been your first conversation with Jung Hoseok, and the first time you wanted the ground to swallow him whole. But sadly, it doesn’t end there. 

In fourth year, Hoseok made everyone’s quill disappear throughout the whole duration of the lesson only to have them reappear moments before class ended just to chase the poor professor out of the classroom. And of course, the final cherry on top had been a firework of feathers, the byproduct of the quills colliding and exploding over the whole class. The feathers had stuck to you for weeks, and Jung Hoseok had been laughing the whole goddamn time. 

He had even cornered you after class with his classic shit-eating grin. “You look like a bird,” He commented. 

In fifth year, he did something that surprised you: he walked to your desk and gave you a present. 

“I hear you’re into plants or whatever,” Hoseok said, placing a small pot onto your desk. “So I found this and thought of you!” 

He had seemed polite enough for you to indulge him. “It’s herbology,” You corrected him, but you wave it off. “But it’s fine. Uh…” You take the pot, curling your fingers around the edges. “This is very nice of you, Hoseok. Thank you.” 

But turns out it was not a very nice gesture for you because the plant had been jinxed—a bewitched thing that became dangerously overgrown through the night and latched onto you in its path. You had woken up the next morning with branches and leaves curled over every part of your body, your entire bedpost covered with greenery and you right at the heart of it. You, lifted several feet above the bed, trapped in the plant Hoseok had given you. The Headmistress was called to help you out, and you refused to stand next to Hoseok in the greenhouse for the rest of the year. 

And finally, the cherry on top of pranks was during sixth year. In an attempt to fix an admirer’s robes, Hoseok ended up bewitching the entirety of the housing system. The crests people wore on their robes were mixed around and swapped out. The gesture ended up fucking up who was allowed or denied access into the different houses—a crazy day that you remember extremely well. The paintings that guarded the common rooms couldn’t let in certain students, especially the first years because new students are still trying to be adjusted into the school. The day had been an overall frenzy where the attention of the Headmaster was needed to undo the mess. Hoseok had gotten a week of detention following that incident. 

“Wow,” Nayeon says, back in the present, with her chin in her hand and her eyes wide. “I didn’t even know most of those pranks were done by Hoseok.” She looks at you. “I didn’t know you were the one who got attacked by the plant overnight.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” You cut in, looking embarrassed. “It was all very terrible and horrible and Jung Hoseok is a gigantic piece of trash—!” 

“Piece of trash? You don’t mean yourself, do you?” 

The familiar, shit-eating grin in his voice causes the three of you to jump as you pivot your waist to find Jung Hoseok and his stupid equally-as-naturally-talented friend Jeon Jungkook by his side. They’re both staring down at you. 

You glare at him. “Are you stupid? If you’re selectively eavesdropping on a conversation not meant for you, it’s clear that you know I was talking about you.” 

Hoseok slides his hands into his pockets. “Tactful as always. Anyways, this is my friend Jeon Jungkook. You may know him.” 

“What’s up,” Jungkook introduces himself, eyes flickering to Nayeon as he grins. “Hey Nayeon.” 

Nayeon gives him a weak smile in return. You wonder if she’s still upset about her loss against Jungkook in the Quidditch match. Or, deeper than that, you wonder if she’s more upset that he invited her to that party in the Room of Requirements and never showed up.  

“Pleasant,” Hoseok comments in regards to the atmosphere that has been crafted before he’s turning back to you. “I’m hearing about a potions exam coming up.” 

You nod. “You’re correct. Why, you’re gonna try and study this time?” 

Hoseok laughs at that. “Nah,” He brushes off. “It doesn’t seem that important. I’ll look over a guide or something, but that’s it.” 

Your stare hardens slightly. “I think it’s a little more important than you’re making it seem. You do realize that if you fail your exams, you won’t even make it to the N.E.W.T.s, and it seems like that’ll definitely fuck up your chances of doing anything significant with your life.” You pause. “Don’t you need to continue that family legacy or something?” 

Hoseok laugh melts into a frown. The group you’re surrounded with becomes significantly quiet, as everyone seems in shock about the direction you’re taking the conversation. “Why don’t you just mind your business? My ‘family legacy’ or whatever dumb shit you want to call it isn’t of your concern. More than that, how I decide to go about my business is up to me.” He smiles, all teeth but no humor. “Your concern for my grades is cute. But I’m a Jung. I don’t need help and certainly not from you.” He readjusts the page on his shoulder. “Have a good rest of your day.” 

As he and Jungkook take their leave, you roll your eyes and turn back to Sana and Nayeon. You smile. “He’s a dick. So, Sana, What kind of food did you bring out for us?” 

. 

When Jung Hoseok said he didn’t think the upcoming potions exam struck much importance to him, he didn’t think the universe would actually take him seriously. That is all that can run through his mind as he stares at the POOR classification written across his test. 

His mind whirls a little as he starts to flip through the parchment, to figure out what had happened. Sure, he didn’t study specific ingredients closely, but he’s always known the gist of what different potions were meant for. That is, after all, how he passed his O.W.L. in potions.  

“Yeah… I guess the more advanced courses look into what certain ingredients can do,” Jimin says, where his OUTSTANDING classification is over his own exam—of course. “When you get out in the real world and need to make something specific, it’s better to have the foundation of materials. Anyways I thought you knew that. I gave you a copy of a study guide for you to reference.” He narrows his eyes. “Unless you were out with Namjoon again.” 

Hoseok sighs. “Whatever. It’s just one exam, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” 

He’s about to collect his belongings when Professor Slughorn’s voice calls him from the front of the room. “Have a bit of trouble studying for the test, Mr. Jung?” He asks as Hoseok steps towards the desk. 

Hoseok looks down at his test and plasters a smile. “Just wasn’t sure what to focus on, Professor. It won’t happen again.” 

“I hope that it won’t, Mr. Jung.” Professor Slughorn puts down his quill before folding his fingers atop one another. “Because if you fail another one of my exams, it’ll be clear to me that you aren’t fit to take the N.E.W.T. for potions. And I understand you’re interested in the auror program after graduation. That is something I can’t guarantee right now. Unfortunately, just being a Jung won’t be enough if you can’t even make it to the examination period at the end of the year.” 

Hoseok furrows his eyebrows, pressing his lips together. “So what do I need to do?” 

Professor Slughorn ponders for a second. “An Outstanding classification would do you well, Mr. Jung. Good luck.” 

With that, Hoseok leaves the confines of the dungeon with a head full and a panic brimming at the corners of his consciousness. An Outstanding was a Park Jimin level of smart and a 24/7 level of commitment—something Hoseok himself has only accomplished once. What the fuck was he going to do?

He ponders this question as he leaves the dungeons of the potions classroom, where Park Jimin is waiting near the entrance. 

Jimin grins, detaching himself from the wall to approach his friend. “Are you still my potions partner?” He asks jokingly, matching Hoseok’s pace as the pair of them make their way towards the Great Hall for breakfast. The tall glass windows bring in that morning light, the haziness of morning stretching out past the horizon of the mountains outside. 

Hoseok huffs. “Maybe not for long. Professor Slughorn says I need an Outstanding classification for his next exam or he’s gonna kick me out of class.” 

Jimin whistles. “That’s the highest grade in the school from one of the hardest classes you’ll take at Hogwarts. Potions exams are no joke.” 

“I know that,” Hoseok snaps. “I took the exam. I’m aware they’re hard. Otherwise I wouldn’t be in this fucking position right now.” 

“Spicy,” Jimin rebuffs, nudging Hoseok with his shoulder. Hard. “But hey, don’t be a dick to me. You failed on your own merits. You’re lucky Professor Slughorn is actually nice and is letting you off with a warning. If this was first year and he didn’t know jack shit about you, you’d be gone.” 

Hoseok sighs. He doesn’t apologize, however, but it’s implied with his momentary lingering glare. “So, uh,” He starts. “You got time to help me out during study periods? Outstandings require like… near perfect scores. I only got that score on the O.W.L. for Defense.” 

Jimin gives Hoseok a long look. “I would help you Hobi, but I recently got roped into some Ministry of Magic project with that transfer student from Ilvermorny. Professor McGonagall’s orders. It’s a pretty heavy assignment, so I could still try to arrange some time for you…” 

“Nah, it’s okay,” Hoseok cuts in, waving him off. “I’ll figure something out.” 

Jimin ponders this for a moment as he and Hoseok linger outside the Great Hall, waiting for their other friends to show up as per usual. “You sure? I could make time. No worries dude, seriously.” 

“Like I said, it’s fine,” Hoseok brushes off once more, eyes roaming around the hallway. Several unfamiliar students pass the pair of them before you show up and catch his eye. “Uh,” He starts with Jimin, looking at you but directing his voice to Jimin. “If the guys show up, go ahead without me. I’ll catch up in a second.” 

Jimin looks over Hoseok’s shoulder, looking vaguely curious about where Hoseok’s interest in engaging conversation with you has come from, but shrugs it off when Kim Taehyung appears. 

“Hey!” Hoseok calls, saying your name and making you look up from your conversation. “Hi,” He repeats, smiling from you to Sana and back to you. “I need to talk to you.” 

You roll your eyes. “No, Jung Hoseok, I didn’t rat you out to Professor Slughorn and no, I didn’t imply that you were the one to mess with my ingredients.” 

Hoseok snorts. “Okay first of all, I know Professor Slughorn figured that out on his own. I know you weren’t smart enough to piece anything together—!” He cuts himself off when your glare narrows into something that implies you’ll murder him in his sleep. “Right.” He readies himself. “I need to talk to you.” 

You look at Sana and sigh before looking back at Hoseok. “What is it?” 

He’s quiet for a second. “You’re good at potions, right? Like, you’re actually good at knowing ingredients and shit?” 

“Where exactly is this going?” You snap back, looking slightly hurt that your expertise in potions was being put under question. Not that it was ever Jung Hoseok’s responsibility to know your grades. Not that he cares, anyways. 

“She’s good,” Sana interjects politely. “She got an Outstanding classification on the recent test.” 

Hoseok brightens. “Thank you Sana.” 

“Hey,” You protest. “Who’s side are you on?” 

Sana gives you a look. “Are you saying that you were just going to ignore him? While he’s standing right in front of you?” 

Your glare deepens. “Why don’t you go and save me a seat for breakfast? I’ll catch up.” 

Sana laughs. “Alright then.” She turns to Hoseok. “See you around, Hoseok.” 

Hoseok tilts his head up. “Later, Sana.” He waits until Sana has entered the Great Hall before he’s turning back to you. “So, an Outstanding classification. You’re pretty smart then.” 

Your glare doesn’t go away. Instead, your eyes narrow in suspicion. “What do you want?” 

He seems to ponder this. “I’m giving you an opportunity. I’m in need of a tutor for potions and you seem…” He waves towards all of you. “Vaguely qualifiable. What do you say?” 

You look like he’s grown a third head. “Are you serious? If you’re actually trying to get me to help you out, you’re not doing a very good job of selling yourself. In fact, you’re coming off as more of a dick than usual.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Why don’t you ask your actual smart friend over there?” You gesture towards the entrance of the Great Hall, where Park Jimin is only now sliding into one of the tables. Around him are the company of Jungkook and Taehyung—all three of them laughing mid-conversation. 

Hoseok turns back to you. “Jimin is busy.” 

You give him a tight smile. “And so am I. Goodbye, Jung Hoseok.” 

“Hey, wait, come on,” Hoseok cuts in, not entirely used to rejection of this degree. He’s more accustomed to friends rearranging schedules for him, to students watching his movements with awe. Not disgust, which is the look you’re giving him right now. “Don’t be like that. I need help.” 

“Wow, you’ve really built up a case this time. I’m jumping out of my seat with glee and anticipation,” You remark sarcastically. 

Hoseok bites his tongue. He speaks without thinking. “You should be honored I’m asking you for help. I’m a Jung—people part for my family because they know how important we are. What’s up your ass anyways?” 

Your gaze on him turns from annoyed to appalled. “What’s up my ass?” You echo. “You think I give a shit about how you’re connected to your family? Based on your work ethic alone, you’re unrelated to them for all I care. The fact that you’re using them to justify your dick behavior is blowing my mind right now,” You sneer, taking a step back away from him. “Tutoring you isn’t an ‘opportunity’, Hoseok. It’s an anchor.” With that, you turn around and Hoseok alone in the hallway. 

To say he’s frustrated would be an understatement. He lingers, watching you make your way into the Great Hall to join your friends. For some reason, your rejection just makes him even more attuned to your actions and gestures—the way you join your friends at the table, the way you reach for the food lined up along the center of the long table, the way you smile as if you hadn’t been snapping Hoseok out just seconds ago. 

With a huff, he too steps into the Great Hall and slides into the corner seat along with his friends. 

Jimin laughs, sticking his fork into some bacon and eggs. “What happened?” 

Hoseok scoffs. “What makes you say something happened?” 

“Dude, it’s written all over your face,” Jimin retorts, gesturing to Hoseok with his fork. “She pissed you off. What happened?” 

“Does it even matter?” Hoseok returns, reaching over to grab the cup laid out for him. It immediately fills up with the morning drink of his choice—coffee. “Just being frustrating and yelling at me, as per usual.” 

Jungkook laughs. “That is true.” 

“Anyways…” Hoseok starts up, craning his neck just slightly to see you further down the table, still smiling and joking around with your own friends. “She said something that really bothered me. So I think I’ll send her a little present of thanks.” 

Very slowly, he takes his wand out of his robe and rummages through his bag for a box. With the mutter of a spell underneath his breath, the box turns invisible with only the vague shimmering blurriness of its space to give an indication of its location. Hoseok raises his wand up, and the box follows, as it floats soundlessly down the table and past the other small clusters of students partaking in their own morning eating. Most don’t notice, too involved in their personal conversations or trying to shake off the morning exhaustion in time for lessons. 

The box lingers when it reaches you, and Hoseok drops his wrist so the contents inside the box sprinkle all over your breakfast food. 

“Accio box,” Hoseok hisses, watching as the box flies towards him before catching it with one hand. At his friends momentarily bewildered look, he flashes the now visible product towards them. “Hiccough sweet,” He explains, tossing it to Jungkook when the latter opens up his arms with a silent question. 

Jungkook catches the box and turns it over to read the product description on the back. “A Zonko’s Joke Shop Product,” He reads. “Induces a hiccoughing fit when consumed.” He looks up. “So you just need to eat this and…?” 

An utter of your name is heard from across the table. “Are you okay?” 

You cough, hitting your chest with the palm of your hand. A round of hiccups escape you as your whole body jerks with each spasm of your diaphragm. “Maybe I—hic—ate too fast—hic—!” You try for a glass of water, but your hiccoughing makes you choke just before you can down the liquid, causing only further coughing and discomfort. 

Hoseok watches the whole thing with a grin on his face. 

In the midst of your coughing fit, you catch Hoseok’s eye and don’t have too much trouble deceiving his grin this time. It also helps that he’s waving the box of Hiccough Sweet at you. 

Your lips part in shock. “Jung—hic—HOSEOK—!” The noise of your hiccups grow louder to echo through the breakfast hall. The increasing silence doesn’t help as your struggles only become more and more apparent. 

Your lips part in shock as the noises of your hiccups grow loud enough to echo through the breakfast hall. The increasing silence doesn’t help as your struggles only become more and more apparent. 

Sana seems to catch wind of this and places a hand on your back as you gasp in between your fit of hiccups. “Maybe we should go to Madam Pomfrey and see if she can fix this,” She says, helping you out of the seat as you cough in between your hiccups. 

You point to Hoseok as you and Sana make your way out of the Great Hall. “I’m—hic—going to kill you—hic—so you better make sure I don’t—hic—see you in the hallway—hic—you dick!” 

Hoseok is still mid-laughter as you and Sana leave the hall, bringing the curiosity of whispers and rumors along with you.

. 

You don’t return to the house dorms that night, something about how Madam Pomfrey couldn’t figure out how to combat the hiccough sweet and had to take some time to figure out how to settle your diaphragm down. Hoseok had giggled about it then, and continues to smirk about it hours later as he exits the castle and makes his way down to the Gamekeeper’s hut along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Today is Saturday, and the breeze is calm but the clouds are collecting along the edges of the sky with the telltale signs that a storm is coming up soon. 

Regardless of the weather, Hoseok is still making the trek out as he crosses down dirt pathways and rocky inclines—finally reaching the hut and the gates of magical creatures that are housed within the area. Today, Kim Namjoon is out there begrudgingly combing through the cages of the Blast-Ended Skrewts. 

Hoseok lingers outside the cage for a moment, watching his friend partake in the very activities he had talked about and laughed about months prior. 

He speaks finally. “If I decided to hit this cage, would the skrewts start shooting fire at me?” 

If Namjoon is surprised by the visit of his friend, he doesn’t show it. “No, they’d start shooting fire at me so for the sake of our sanity, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t.” 

Hoseok grins. “I’m sure that the zookeeper who is supposed to be mentoring you would appreciate the sentiment.” 

Namjoon flicks him off instead, and the pair wallow in silence as Namjoon continues cleaning up the cage until the area is spotless. Quickly, he opens the cage and shuts it behind him to signal his completion of the task. The silence stretches on as Hoseok reaches into his bag and pulls out a roll, referring to a common activity between the two of them, as the air quickly fills with purple smoke that smells of berries. 

“What about your problem?” Namjoon asks after a few minutes. He shakes his roll. “The potions girl had a bit of trouble recovering from your hiccough sweet prank, so I’ve heard. Is that supposed to help convince her that she should tutor you?” 

Hoseok blows smoke. “Probably not. But she called me an anchor!” 

Namjoon snorts. “Because you’re asking someone to help you study when you can be pretty shitty at studying because of your even shitter attitude? Especially regarding potions, AKA your hardest subject?” He looks out. “I’m surprised she didn’t say anything worse.” 

Hoseok narrows his eyes at his friend. “You dick. You’re not exactly a model citizen either. What the fuck do you think got you into this position in the first place?” 

The pair of them bicker for a little longer—conversations indulging through the activities of different classes and the different affairs going on amongst their friend group, before the aforementioned heavy clouds groan from above. It’s an angry sound, a crackle of noise that splits through the sky and gives a warning of what’s to come. 

It’s a warning that only lasts a few seconds before rain starts pouring down from the sky, loudly pittering and pattering against the ground. Taken aback by the sudden nature of the weather, as well as the heavy weight of the rain drops themselves, Hoseok and Namjoon scramble to collect their belongings. Namjoon turns his attention back to the magical creatures around him, the rain starts to soak through his hair. 

“I need to clean up,” Namjoon says, slightly begrudgingly, but firm nonetheless. 

So Hoseok nods. “I’m gonna try and head back.” The pair of them exchange one last final parting before going their separate ways. 

Despite Hoseok claiming a trip straight back to the castle, he doesn’t follow through immediately. He takes a bit of a detour, towards another place he knows he can remain alone and unbothered—a place that usually allows him to wallow in his thoughts given how it’s always unoccupied during certain days. 

He heads towards the greenhouse. 

But the time he’s reached the outskirts of the house, he’s soaked through his robe and his hair is promptly sticking to his forehead. The cool temperature invokes a slight shiver as Hoseok still pushes open the door of the greenhouse and closes it behind him. 

He basks in his alone time for a grand total of five seconds before—! 

“Jung Hoseok?” It’s your voice, and Hoseok groans. You’re not exactly the first person on the list of people he wants to see right now, especially after the whole hiccough sweet thing the other day. Not that he’s actively trying to avoid you, but seeing you is like salt in the wound. It’s definitely vice versa for him to. 

He whirls around to see you having stepped out from an enclosed area of the greenhouse, a separate place of the building separated by more glass for advanced herbology students. It’s closed off from the main portion of the greenhouse to ensure that curious first-years don’t accidentally mess with plants that could alter one’s memory or other forms of dangerous enchantments. You, however, are prepared for this—with your dragon-hide gloves and rolled up sleeves of your white polo shirt. 

When he doesn’t say anything immediately, you only further narrow your eyes at him. “What are you doing here? Last time I checked, idiots don’t need to drop by the greenhouse.” You jerk your chin towards the outside. “In the rain of all times.” 

He ignores your insult to approach you instead. “I was just escaping the rain, thank you very much. Very cozy in here. And I’m totally fine, thanks for asking.” When you don’t say anything, he clears his throat. “So, what are you doing here?” 

You gesture towards the area of the greenhouse you’ve just emerged from. “Do you have eyes? I’m here for an assignment.” 

“Ah.” Hoseok nods. “That’s right, I forgot you like the play with plants.” 

You frown. “It’s not playing with plants, I’m observing them—!” You cut yourself off, seeming to decide it wasn’t worth fighting this battle. You raise your hand and make a noise of self-protest in the back of your throat. “You know what? Whatever. I’m done for today anyways so I’ll let you roam free in here. Touch a plant and lose your memory for all I care.” You disappear back behind the advanced herbology section of the greenhouse once more to put your equipment back in the proper place, leaving Hoseok back at the entrance.

A few seconds pass before you’re emerging once more with your school blazer over your shoulder, brushing past Hoseok and turning the knob to exit the greenhouse—leaving Hoseok behind. 

Watching you leave, somehow, is even more frustrating than enduring a conversation with you, which is why Hoseok dashes towards the door you’ve just closed to pull it open again. You’re up ahead, blazer over your head and your shoes splashing into the puddles on the ground. 

“Y/N, wait!” Hoseok calls, closing the door and jogging over to catch up to you. 

Your pace doesn’t let up. Neither does your disdain for him as you look over your shoulder to continue barking at him. “What do you want, Hoseok? Doesn’t putting hiccoughing sweet into my breakfast fulfill your quota of torturing someone for the week?” 

“What?” Hoseok shakes his head. “No, no, it’s not about that. It’s about the thing, the—the other thing!” 

“The other thing…?” You trail off, before stopping dead in your path. Hoseok would have crashed into you had he been running behind you rather than next to you. But alas, he slows down into a standstill. The rain continues to pour down on the two of you, further soaking Hoseok past his already wet clothes. You yourself lower the blazer off your head, allowing the rain to touch the strands of your hair. “Are you seriously bringing that up with me again?” 

Hoseok swallows. Every little micro aggression you direct towards him only eats at his confidence more and more. Not used to being rejected as many times as he currently has, he finds that he has a harder time trying to formulate the right words into the right sentence, he actually stammers. “I just thought…” 

“Thought what?” You interrupt. “That avoiding me would make me forget how much of a dick you are? That’s right, you don’t think I noticed what’s been going on for the past few days. You’re filled with guilt and you think ignoring the problem will just make me forget it long enough to be your stupid tutor. But let me tell you something, Jung Hoseok.” You take a step closer to him, close enough where he can see the rain drops clinging to your lashes. “Nothing can make me tutor you.” 

You step back, turn around and start your walk towards the castle once more before Hoseok sighs loudly into the air. He says something that he hasn’t said since he was ten. “I’m sorry!” He calls out, yelling it through the space between you. 

That makes you falter slightly, having never heard those two words spoken to you before. You stop walking, looking over your shoulder to stare at him—give him a chance to further explain himself. 

Hoseok sighs again, trying to quickly formulate his thoughts into words before you lose interest and continue to think he’s full of shit. “Professor Slughorn called me in the other day and said that if I don’t get an Outstanding classification on the next exam, I’m basically out of the potions N.E.W.T.s. If that happens then I won’t get into the auror program after graduation—and yeah, I’ll be a disappointment to my family. So I, uh… need your help. Please.” He says the last word more as an afterthought, more of a grumble. 

It’s quiet for a moment, save for the sound of rain pattering against the grassy pathway. A part of Hoseok really thinks that you’re going to curse him out again, tell him to piss off now and forever. But you speak. “What was that?” You say. “The last part.” 

There’s a slight smile in your voice, as if you know what he said but just want to hear him repeat nonetheless. 

“Please,” Hoseok tries again, a little stiffer but a lot louder. 

“One more time?” 

Hoseok glares harder, but he’s not sure you can see it through the rain. 

Finally, you take a step towards him. Your shoes squish against the mud, stopping when you’re arms length away from him. “You must be desperate,” You say at last, running a hand across your forehead to rid of some of the water that has collected there. At last, you yourself emit a sigh as you rummage through your bag for your wand. You pull it out, pointing it up to the sky as a clear veil comes out from the tip—an invisible umbrella. The rain hits the surface of your spell-produced umbrella, but it’s a protection that only covers you up. Hoseok continues to feel the rain soak through every part of him. “Fine,” You acknowledge after a moment. Hoseok feels his heart lurch in his chest. “I’ll tutor you—but, if you fuck with me even once… if you show up late or don’t take this seriously, then I’m out. I won’t even give you a warning. This is my warning.” 

Your strong-hold and straightforward attitude about your conditions to tutor him leaves Hoseok vaguely starry-eyed. Not that you aren’t normally no-nonsense, but to see you take so much control over something he is a part of makes him stunned. 

So he utters the only thing he is capable of uttering with a full head. “S-Sure,” He manages. 

That seems to be enough for you, because you give him a curt nod. “Tomorrow afternoon, 2pm,” You throw out. “That’s when I’m done with lunch. Meet me in front of the library.” 

“Y-Yeah…” Hoseok says, trailing off as he watches you leave, taking your energy and the pitter-patter of your umbrella with you down the pathway and back toward the castle. 

.

He doesn’t even want to try and entertain the possibility of fucking around the following day—doesn’t even want to see if you were perhaps joking around when you threated to back out of the tutoring arrangement if he so much as breathed wrong in your direction. He shows up five minutes before the agreed time.

You show up a minute before, readjusting the strap of your bag, but you stop at the sight of him lingering outside the library. You wear an unreadable expression as you approach him. 

Hoseok stares right back. “What?” He says, trying to keep the bite out of his voice. 

You shake your head. “Nothing, nothing. Nice to see you passing the first test of showing up early..” Without another word, you make your way into the library with Hoseok hot at your tail. 

The two of you eventually settle into a tiny corner booth encompassed by shelves of books. The library is quiet considering it’s a Sunday afternoon when most normal students are probably fighting the food coma of lunch. Normally, Hoseok would be one of those people—would prefer to just relax outside in the courtyard with his body laid out amongst the grass and the conversations of his friends putting him to sleep. The momentary visual of that is contradicted to his current predicament: inside the library and the uncertain nature of the current situation leaving him apprehensive. It’s an emotion he isn’t accustomed to. 

“So,” You start just as Hoseok is settling into his chair. You lean forward, fingers lacing together as you regard him with a curious look. “We need to figure out how much you know. Can you tell me what bezoars are and what it’s good for?” 

He stares at you. 

You kiss your teeth as you twist in your chair to collect parchment from your bag. “Alright. This’ll be a good next few weeks.” The dryness in your tone is hard to ignore. 

Hoseok furrows his eyebrows. “Why, what’s wrong? What’s a bezoar?” 

You sigh. “What’s wrong is that bezoars were the first things we studied this year in class. Honestly, Jung Hoseok, how did you even make it to this level of potions?” 

“Hey,” He exclaims, actually pouting at you. Just a little, but the defeat in his tone is present—still guilty for not knowing what bezoars are. “The O.W.L.s were easier. And Park Jimin is one of my best friends, he usually tutored me right before the exams. And exams from last year were made for more memorizing rather than actually giving me a foundation for this shit.” 

You waver in the collection of your materials to give him a look. 

He looks right back at you. “What?” He asks again, a little sharper this time. 

You lift your hands up as if to deflect his self-conscious attitude. “Nothing, it’s just—you’re pretty observant about that kind of stuff. And I would even go so far as to agree with you. Those tests were pretty brutal.” 

“Yeah, exactly…” The notion of you actually agreeing with him feels like a few weights off his shoulders. Hoseok settles himself deeper into his seat. “So I honestly just forgot the information as soon as I finished the test.” 

You nod slowly. “Okay… that’s fine. It’s a problem, however, because you really need to know all this information if you’re gonna need to pass the upcoming potions exam and even further for the N.E.W.T. exam. Just memorizing and forgetting for each test isn’t going to work this year. But, for this upcoming potions test, this is what you’ll be tested on.” You produce another parchment that contains a small list of ingredients and actual potion brews. “Professor Slughorn said that the next exam will be a combination of concepts learned from the first test as well as the lessons after that.”

Hoseok takes the parchment from you and feels his eyes almost bug out of his head. The list itself isn’t too long—just a handful of ingredients and potions—but the subheaders are filled with different points that would need to be covered in the exam. Like where specific ingredients could be found, what season would be the best time to grow them, if they could be grown, what potions from class one would find this ingredient, and the general purpose of the ingredient. For potions, pointers you’ve written cover the intention of the potions and the ingredients required. 

The new knowledge that he would need to know all this information fills Hoseok with a sense of dread, before the doubt settles in. “There’s no way it has to be this detailed.” 

You glare at him. “Hey, why would I take the time to write out all these different subheaders otherwise? Last time I checked, I was the one who passed and you were the one who failed.” 

“You don’t think I know that?” Hoseok snaps. “Why else do you think I’m here?” 

You slam the textbooks and parchment you’ve brought over onto the table. “Are you seriously trying to pick a fight with me over this shit right now?” You run both your hands through your hair. “Look, you don’t like studying and memorizing and applying yourself—I don’t get it, but who the fuck am I to spare brain cells in trying to make sense about you. But this is the reality of the situation. You get out what you put in. If you would prefer Park Jimin to tutor you and whisper the answers to you when the professors aren’t looking, then be my guest.” 

“No! No, okay, fine, I’ll stop,” Hoseok interjects tensely. “I guess you just make me a reactionary person.” 

You make a side-eye at that comment, but don’t say anything to further drive the wedge already in place between the two of you. “How good are you with retaining information?” 

“Depends how mean you are to me,” Hoseok mutters. 

You ignore his jab to open up your copy of Advanced Potion Making. “Alright, well, I guess we can start with going over bezoars…” 

.

You can not fathom why you decide to tutor Jung Hoseok. Thinking clearly about it, there isn’t a gain or a loss to come out of helping someone who has done nothing but make your many years at Hogwarts challenging and terrifying at the same time. You know that he doesn’t purposely single you out, and more often than not it’s just the misfortune of being at the wrong place at the wrong time—Hoseok doesn’t have the bad blood in him to target one person (unlike his friends), but his carelessness doesn’t excuse years of frustration and annoyance. 

Given those feelings, you almost said no. In the beginning, you had been fully prepared to reject his ass over and over again until he gave up. It wasn’t difficult at first, with his arrogance shining through and doing well to push all the right buttons that drove you to a rejection in the first place. 

But that day in the greenhouse had changed some things. Hoseok had been the most vulnerable you had ever seen him, showed the most humility, and actually seemed human. And you’ve always had a soft spot for vulnerability—makes you feel guilty if someone poured their heart out only to get rejected once more. So you accepted. 

Besides, even though you aren’t sure how to tutor, you painted yourself as a good student and assumed that teaching someone concepts that have already been reviewed before would be simple. 

But you were very, very, very wrong. 

“For the last time, Jung Hoseok,” You seeth, fingers pressing deep into your temples as you rub. “A fluxweed is part of the mustard family, grows purple flowers, and is known for its healing properties. Knotgrass doesn’t sprout flowers—it’s used for polyjuice potions and is brewed to make knotgrass mead. How do you keep fucking this up?” 

“They both have a grass differential in their name!” Hoseok whines, throwing himself back into his seat. “Weed and grass is very confusing! How does a grass ingredient not sprout a flower but a weed ingredient does? That’s too weird!” 

“It’s not weird, it’s just the way things are!” You snap back. 

“The fact that you say that only makes it more weird!” 

You have to zero in and read an excerpt on fluxweed to calm the nasty flare of anger that lights up in your stomach. Not only is tutoring Hoseok not simple, but it turns out he has difficulty memorizing very basic ideas of things he has zero interest in. How on earth did he pass his O.W.L. for this fucking subject in the first place? 

The pair of you were in your third week of tutoring, still reviewing concepts from the beginning term. With the next upcoming potions exam rapidly approaching, the seeds of doubt start to grow in your mind, an unsure feeling that the pair of you could catch up to the rest of the material. Your growing frustration over Hoseok’s inability to retain the information is also starting to get in the way of proper tutoring sessions. 

Basically, you’re at your ropes end. The hour-per-three-days you have spent tutoring Hoseok could have been spent studying for your own assignments and own weaknesses. Or perhaps seeing a therapist on how to stop letting people like Hoseok take advantage of you. 

“You’re being so impossible right now!” You shriek, ignoring the wandering eyes of other students who glance over at your outburst. “How are you not retaining this information? It’s almost like the only time you’re studying for this class is during our tutoring sessions…” You glance over at him, seeing the vaguely guilty expression in his eyes, and you feel your heart race pick up—the feeling of fight or flight coming over. “Please do not tell me that’s what you’ve been doing for the past three weeks.” 

“Hey…” Hoseok protests. “That’s just how I studied with Jimin. Maybe if we met everyday I’d retain the information better.” 

You turn to face him completely this time, eyes wide and body shaking with only thinly veiled irritation. “Do you think…” You start, voice already rising. “Do you think I have the time or the patience to go that far when I’m already sticking my neck out for you? Why can’t you just work around what I’m giving you—?” You begin to feel it, the anger settling in your throat and the heat of your face bringing tears to your eyes, the absolute frustration of the situation and the fact that you have only yourself to blame for the outcome. 

But, someone new swoops in to interrupt your raging. 

“Hey, there you are Jung Hoseok.” You manage a quick glance in the direction of the voice before turning away to collect your thoughts. It’s Kim Namjoon—one of Hoseok’s good friends and lead writer for the Hogwarts Daily. The thought of being seen and reported on by Namjoon brings you enough nerves that you choose not to make eye contact. You merely look away to blink away your anger and swallow your frustrations. 

It’s hard though, especially when Hoseok and Namjoon start to have a conversation as if you aren’t even here. 

“What’s up?” Hoseok asks, after the two of them engage in their handshake. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, same as usual.” Namjoon stuffs his hands into his pockets. “I just wanted to ask if you were free. Jungkook wants to go down to the Three Broomsticks.” You’re in the middle of flipping through your copy of Advanced Potion-Making when Namjoon adds on one more line: “It doesn’t seem like you’re doing anything important anyways.” 

Then, Hoseok laughs. 

That final sound makes you feel like something has snapped inside of you, with that white hot anger coursing through you once more with no force inside you willing to stop it. Without a warning, you slam the textbook shut. The sound of it crashes through the library. 

For the first time since Namjoon’s arrival, Hoseok looks over at you. “What’s wrong?” 

“Oh, okay, now you want to ask me what’s wrong,” You snap, standing up so fast that the bottom of your chair scraps against the floor. You start to collect your parchments and textbook into your hands. “This was a mistake. I should never have agreed to this.” 

Hoseok frowns, standing up as well. “Wait, hold on—are you mad at me?” 

You slam your bag onto your seat. “WOW, okay, for someone who was all signed up to take five fucking N.E.W.Ts, you do know how to lack critical thinking skills in all shapes and forms! Of course I’m mad at you! You lack respect, initiative, and any self-sufficient skills that could make you a fraction of a good student! It’s like you seriously expect me to solve all your problems and tell you exactly how to handle your situation and be honored that you chose me to do this, when in reality I just felt bad and I thought you reaching out to me would mean a change in your attitude. But clearly, I was wrong. You—you’re impossible to deal with! I can’t believe that I wanted to help you in the first place!” You spit out. your chest heaves up and down, the tears pricking in your eyes. The wetness makes your vision glossy, so you miss Hoseok’s expression drop. “I’m sure you can figure out your own way of passing the class.” 

With a final huff, you turn on your heel, ignoring the gaze of other students who watch you leave. You even brush past Madam Pince who looks seconds away from a scolding. The action leaves Hoseok alone in the library to mull over what has just happened. 

But would he even process what you’ve just said and actually take it seriously? Debatable. But you don’t even care. Your main focus is just to get out of the library as quickly as possible and find somewhere to scream.

You just heard towards the first place that comes to mind—the Hufflepuff common room. You brush past the painting, storming past the group of students conversing near the fireplace and up into the girls dormitory. After going through a maze of different hallways and doorframes leading into different bedrooms, you stop at your own—the door leading to your own bedroom. Inside, Sana is sitting atop her bed, flipping through the pages of a History of Magic textbook. She looks up from the book as soon as she sees you. “Hey, how was the tutoring session?” 

You don’t respond immediately. You brush past her, beeline straight for your own bed and throw yourself atop the covers. Landing face-first onto your pillow, you yell right into the cushion.

Sana jumps at the sound, immediately sliding off her bed to make her way towards you. “What’s wrong?” She asks, sitting on the edge of your bed. 

You pout to yourself for a moment, before you huff and proceed to flail your body atop your bed. Your arms and legs wiggle around, hitting the mattress before you stop and perform a 180 so that your back is resting on the mattress. The tears have disappeared from your eyes, but the angry weight still sits in your chest. “Hoseok is an ass, and I effectively quit from being his tutor today.” 

Sana tilts her head. “But I thought you guys were getting along okay.” 

You snort. “Understatement of the fucking year.” You push yourself up into a sitting position. “That bitch was only using our tutoring sessions to study for potions. The fact that he can’t even fit in supplemental lessons just to make sure he remembers what we’ve gone over. And when I brought it up he was so disrespectful about it! As if I don’t have other things to think about, and like he just expects me to worry about him on a daily basis!” You give Sana a look, before sighing and throwing yourself back onto your bed. “Whatever, it’s done. I can just go back to focusing on my own studying. Hoseok can drown for all I care.” 

Sana smiles as she reaches over to brush the hair that has fallen across your face. “How about we go down to Hogsmeade. I’ll buy you some candy, that should help you get over that jerk.” 

You lift your head to focus on your friend, the corner of your lips quirking up at her offer. 

“Okay, but I’ll just let you know that I won’t hold back,” You say, sliding off the bed and digging through your trunk to get your coat. 

“Since when do you ever?” Sana retorts, as the pair of you break off into giggles, making your way down the stairs into the common room and out into the castle halls. 

.

The crush of footsteps against the grass underneath gives away the arrival of new company. You’re laying in the courtyard outside of the castle, blanket under you and your own copy of Advanced Potion-Making at the edge of your fingertips. All it takes is one glance up to know who has decided to visit you. 

You close your eyes and let out a sigh. “Didn’t I say you should figure out your own way to pass potions?” 

Above you, Jung Hoseok shifts nearly on his stance, switching from one foot to another before he settles on standing straight. He’s doing something you haven’t seen him do in the many years you’ve been in his company: he’s staying quiet. 

His silence leaves you with little choice but to follow along. You push yourself up into a sitting position and lean back enough for your arms to aid in the upcoming of your posture. “How was the Three Broomsticks?” You ask. “You seemed excited to go off with your friend.” 

Hoseok winces at that. 

You catch it. “Yeah, I heard you laugh when Namjoon said it looked like you weren’t doing anything. How do you think something like that makes me feel? Invisible? Like shit, perhaps? Well then, you would be right.” 

Hoseok sighs. His eyes flicker down to an open spot on your picnic blanket. “C-Can I… Can I sit?” 

You only continue to glare at him. “No.” 

He ignores you, electing to just sit down anyways. 

You sigh. “First you can’t even respect my wishes, then you just go off and do whatever you want to anyways.” 

Hoseok glares right back at you. “Because I know you won’t listen to me otherwise. Just hear me out, alright?” 

You engage in a staring match with him, before scoffing and returning the attention back to your book. “Don’t you have another date at the Three Broomsticks to attend to?” 

Hoseok blinks once, twice, before looking down to fix his attention on the edge between the picnic blanket and the grass. “I didn’t go,” He admits quietly, under his breath. 

You tilt your head back, eyes rolling back momentarily before you train your gaze back onto him. “I can’t hear you—why even show up if you can’t even have an honest discussion with me—?” 

“I said, I didn’t go,” Hoseok cuts in, louder this time with a tinge of frustration in his tone. “Just because I laugh with someone doesn’t mean I agree with them. That’s why you were so mad, am I right?” 

Instead of denying or confirming his answer, you keep your mouth shut. 

That seems to be enough for Hoseok, who sighs as he runs a hand through his hair—the frustration over whatever miscommunication he thinks occurred between the two of you clearly affecting him. “Anyways,” He continues. If he’s baffled by your silence, he chooses not to comment on that. A good choice, honestly. “I didn’t go, so can we just continue our tutoring sessions?” 

You keep your gaze on him for a moment, before you look back down at your book. You pucker your lips together. “Nope,” You answer, emphasizing the ‘p’ sound. 

Hoseok recoils, taken aback by your response. “What? Why not?” 

You shut your book, a silence acceptance that you weren’t going to get any reading done at this rate. “If you think I’m just mad about you laughing at some stupid comment your friend made, then you’re a lot dumber than I thought and you would drive the auror department right into the ground. I don’t need that energy around me right now, so good day to you.” You open your textbook right back up and look down. However, it feels as if you’re staring straight through the page, not really absorbing the material and rather just waiting for Hoseok to make his next move. 

He does react with a scoff, looking away for a moment before training his gaze back on you. He’s quiet, and you think that he really is going to walk away, but he goes for his bag. Rummaging around, he produces a stack of ripped parchment papers. He stares down at his collection, before he hands the stack to you. “Here.” 

Your eyes flicker from the papers to his face. To your surprise, Hoseok actually looks embarrassed by what he’s showing you. His meekness gives the encouragement you need to reach out and take the stack. “What is this?” You ask, looking down anyways to find your answer. 

Your heart beats a little quicker at the sight—but it’s not an acceleration due to frustration or irritation. It’s something softer and quieter—touching. 

In your hands is a stack of flashcards ripped from a roll of parchment: potion ingredients on one side and all the requirements you had mentioned previously scribbled on the other side. 

Hoseok watches you carefully. “I, uh,” He starts. “I turned down going to the Three Broomsticks yesterday to work on these. Uh… I’m sorry. For being a dick. I shouldn’t have laughed at what Namjoon said. What I should have been doing was studying on my own though, especially since I know that I have my own shortcomings as a student. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you going out of your way to help me. I should have been a better student, so… yeah. I understand if you don’t want to tutor me anymore. But I didn’t want us to end on terrible terms.” He reaches his arm back out to you, silently asking for the return of his flashcards.

It’s a request you don’t follow through on immediately. You stare between Hoseok and the cards he has just handed you and feel a soft flutter in your stomach—a notion of fondness? Or perhaps is it pride? Either way, it feels like you are seeing Jung Hoseok in a somewhat different light. His meekness and shy nature is coming out in more ways than you had ever expected it too and you are taken aback, and yet it heightens the curiosity you have for him. What other layers does Hoseok have? And are you willing to take the risk and find out? 

Hoseok raises an eyebrow at your unmoving stance. He jerks his hand up and down a few times to get your attention. “Hello? You good in there?” 

You snap out your trance, staring at Hoseok for a moment before looking back down at the flashcards. You skim through a few of them, thumbing through the parchment and flipping over a handful just to see what he’s written. He’s… surprisingly thorough. 

You close your eyes and let out a heavy sigh. You better not regret this. 

You extend your arm to return the stack of parchment back to Hoseok. “If you want, we can go over the details to make sure you can be as thorough as possible.” 

Hoseok takes his flashcards back, looking up to meet your gaze at the statement. He seems to be analyzing your expressions, waiting for you to tell him to piss off all over again. But when you don’t say anything, he speaks up. “What are you saying…?” 

“Look,” You cut in softly, looking down and refusing to make eye contact this time around. “You have already put in all this effort to apologize to me and I can see that you’re working hard. At this point, it seems like a waste if you aren’t able to pass your exam.” 

Hoseok looks stunned at your answer. 

You look away again. “Besides,” You continue. “I don’t want you to come bitching me if you happen to fail your exam and tell me that I held your fate in my hands—I don’t want you to make me feel guilty about this. That’s all.” 

Hoseok processes what you’re saying quickly, because he nods and flashes you a grin. But you can see the weight of tension and stress melt off his shoulders, because he holds himself up a little higher as nods a few more times. “Yeah, yeah, of course. I’ll, uh, let you get back to your own studying.” He straightens up, but keeps his gaze on you. “At the library after lunch tomorrow, right?” 

You kiss your teeth, pointing an index finger at him. “Sounds good, Jung Hoseok.” 

Rather than look back down at your notes, you find your gaze trailing after Hoseok’s retreating form. You watch the way he walks over to Jimin—the way the pair of them talk briefly before Hoseok is gesturing to you with the wave of his arm. Jimin looks at you, makes brief eye contact with you, before you’re turning away to gaze back down at your textbook. 

You cannot pretend you don’t feel the weight of Jimin’s stare as you wait for the two of them to disappear from your line of sight.

.

Hoseok is waiting by the entrance of the library by the time you show up, and the nervous shift in his weight tells you all you need to know about his apprehension. 

“Hi,” You greet, approaching him as Hoseok looks up to regard you almost cautiously. “Are you ready for today?” At his nod, you lean back in your body weight. “Just because you apologized doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you, okay Jung?” 

He just nods again. 

“I just have one little quiz to give you before we can get started,” You continue. “If you can’t answer this, then you really are hopeless. But if you can answer it, I’ll tutor you and we can forget all this other shit happened. Tell what bezoars are and their purpose.” You ignore the face Hoseok gives you when you bring up the potential hopelessness of the situation. 

Bezoars—a reference to the very first question you asked him when you started this whole tutoring session. 

The vague allusion makes Hoseok laugh. Just a little though, because the smile disappears when he notices that you aren’t fucking around with that question. So he settles down and opens his mouth to answer the question. “Bezoars is an antidote for most poisons with the exception of basilisk venom, and it’s taken from the stomach of a goat. It’s formed from the collection of hair or plant fibre that settles in the gut of the animal. Most effective when you swallow it whole.” He wavers slightly. “That’s pretty much the basics.” 

You nod. “Impressive.” 

He shrugs half-heartedly. “I uh, pretty much stayed up all night working on those flashcards, which is where I learned all about bezoars.” 

You nod again. “Alright, that answer satisfies me.” You gesture towards the entrance of the library. “We are free to continue on with the lessons.” 

As you walk into the library, Hoseok is right behind you. “Are you saying you would have just walked away if I didn’t know the answer?” 

You snort. “Of course. It’s been a month since we started the tutoring session—if you didn’t know what bezoars were I would have run for the hills. Hence, me calling you hopeless.” 

“But naturally you aren’t going to do that,” He says, sliding into the seat at the table booth you’ve selected for the pair of you. “Because I’m awesome.” 

You glare at him, letting his self-praise settle for the matter of four seconds. “Okay,” You say, standing up and collecting your books in your arms once more. “It was really nice knowing you, Jung Hoseok, but I’m about to go run for the hills now—!” 

“Wait, wait, okay, I’m kidding, nevermind—!” 

.

Things get better after the conversation in the courtyard. Two weeks and two tutoring sessions later, Jung Hoseok is already in the library at your usual sitting spot by the time you arrive. You’re still in the haze of your lunch coma, but you become more alert at the sight of him hunched over his textbook. 

You pull your seat back, causing Hoseok to jump in surprise at your arrival. There is, however, a bag in your seat, one that Hoseok quickly tugs back onto his own lap. “S-Sorry,” He manages, flashing you a small smile. “I was just saving the seat for you.” 

You press your lips together to hide the momentary gap in your expression. “Thanks,” You return, sliding into the now vacant chair and placing your bag on the desk. “What are you working on today?” 

“I’m reading about garrotting gas,” Hoseok answers almost proudly, straightening up enough to flash you his textbook and the parchment he has set aside to take notes. After flashing a quick peek, you are clearly able to see the long line of bullet points he has made. 

“Wow,” You say, impressed by how far he’s gone. “You’ve covered a lot. When did you even get to the library?” 

Hoseok smiles sheepishly. He touches the back of his neck, a habit you’ve noticed recently that takes form in the presence of nerves. “About thirty minutes ago actually. I know garrotting gas is pretty advanced stuff so I wanted to get a head start. Plus… since Professor Slughorn taught it about a month ago I know I’m still behind.” 

“Nah, you’re catching up rather quickly, actually,” You interject with a smile of your own. “The fact that we’ve been able to cover all the first exam’s topics within the week is awesome. Your flashcards have really helped out.” You turn your attention to your own bag, missing the soft look Hoseok sends your way. It vanishes as soon as you look at him again. “Plus garrotting gas will be on the N.E.W.T. Nice to see that you’re planning ahead.” 

Hoseok actually rolls his eyes at that. Playful, but unbelieving. “I need to pass this potions exam first before I can think about the N.E.W.T.s. “ 

You laugh, reaching across the way to rest your hand on his shoulder. “At this point, if you don’t pass that potions exam, I will literally throw you off the Astronomy tower.” 

The next tutoring session comes on a Sunday, per Hoseok’s request. 

“I just want you to test me on the two potions we went over right after the first exam,” He explains. He’s selected a different spot in the library today: a table in the main area with enough space for the pair of you to sit opposite of each other. Something about you sitting directly across from him feeling more official, or something like that. You don’t understand it, but Hoseok seems eager to try. 

So you nod, folding your fingers atop one another as you give Hoseok a look. “Alright. So garrotting gas and the garnish pink blended poison, correct? Just to make sure you didn’t skip ahead.” 

Hoseok feigns a gasp, pressing his hand to his chest. “I would never.” 

You snort at that, closing your eyes and shaking your head. Clearly, it’s a rejection of an attitude Hoseok once held for the potions curriculum. The fact that you are able to joke about it and earn an equally sarcastic reply back shifts something in your heart—he’s now smiles with teeth. 

The pair of you go at it for a little bit—“garrotting gases are colorless that causes choking or even suffocation because the gas catches people by the neck if someone were to walk through it, and garnish pink blended poison are pink in color that have ten different components for ingredients. According to Golpalott’s Third Law, the effects of the poison could be countered with the adequate antidote or a bezoar.” 

You nod, corner of your lips turning up. “Good job. And you brought Golpalott in as well, which is always a plus. I would say that you pass the review then.” 

Hoseok grins and makes a little noise of satisfaction, a quiet little burst of excitement that makes your stare linger for an extra moment. Having never heard a sound like that from him, it makes you wonder what more he’s hiding from you. It’s also such a happy sound that you cannot help but smile back at his own happiness. 

Hoseok drums his fingers on the table, the smile still plastered to his face. “Hey, uh, want to cut this session early and enjoy some sunlight for once? Jungkook is in the middle of Quidditch practice and sometimes I like to go watch what he’s up to. Want to join me?” 

You blink at his offer, surprised that he would ask you something so forward. Not that Hoseok is a stranger by any means, shapes, or forms, yet you would never consider the pair of you friends or even people that hung out outside the barriers of your normal interactions. Which is why you are shocked by his offer. “You want me to join you?” You ask instead. 

Hoseok flushes at your question. He may have softened around the edges but it’s hard to let go of old expectations and it shows. “I-I mean,” He starts. “Obviously you don’t have to come with if you don’t want to. I just figured that you’d still be here studying when you could go get out and get some sun. Not that you couldn’t have gotten sunlight on your own, I just thought—!” 

“Hey, Jung Hoseok,” You interrupt, unable to hide the smile of pure amusement that takes over at the sight of him being so flustered. You’ve never seen him stammer through anything before. “What are you so nervous for? I’ll go to the Quidditch practice with you.” 

He blinks. “Really?” At your expression, he springs right into action. “Oh yeah, of course. His practice just started so let’s get going!” 

The pair of you start packing up you belongings, albeit not much was taken out to begin with given that Hoseok had only asked to meet up for a single purpose, so it doesn’t take long until you’re exiting the library and making your way through the hallways that will lead to the entrance of the castle. You and Hoseok talk briefly about Jungkook and some old memories, but most conversations fade out into a comfortable silence. 

You don’t mind the lack of talking. Hoseok’s presence has never made you uncomfortable per say. Irritated, annoyed, or frustrated would definitely be a better word to describe the nature of the dynamic you’ve always shared with Hoseok. Yet lately with all of your previous interactions, it seems to have softened the frustration into something else. What that something is, you aren’t entirely sure yet but you aren’t opposed to finding out. 

“You’re right, the sunlight is pretty soothing,” You speak up as the pair of you continue through the grassy fields and the flags and hoops of the Quidditch field grow larger with every step. 

Hoseok hums. “Was I right in that you were just going to continue studying on your own as soon as I left?” 

You cough. “W-Well, you weren’t wrong.” At his laugh, you immediately whirl to glare at the boy. “What’s wrong with studying huh!” 

“Nothing, nothing!” He protests, waving his hands back and forth. “Actually, I guess it’s good you’re a nerd who likes to study so much. Otherwise we wouldn’t have become friends.” 

“I think the word you’re looking for is an anchor,” You grumble, ignoring the fact that he’s just called you a friend—and further ignoring the fact that you aren’t completely grossed out by that label. 

Hoseok scoffs. “You dare use that word of insult against me? After everything we’ve been through!” 

“It’s not an insult,” You protest wildly despite the fact that it is, indeed, an insult. “It’s… well…” 

Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “Go on,” He beckons. “I’m listening.” 

You’re quiet for a moment. “Oh! Hey, look, it’s the Quidditch field!” You exclaim loudly, gesturing to the now extremely tall structure of stands and hoops above. “Shall we head up?” You ask, pointing upwards to indicate the higher elevation the pair of you will have to take in the hopes of seeing the Quidditch practice in its full glory. 

Hoseok points at you. “This conversation isn’t over.” He does, however, drop it long enough to lead the both of you into the tent and up the wooden stairs. It’s a long trek up to the top of the stands where the seats are located, but you make it eventually. Several other students are scattered across the area, some are grouped together with friends and others are watching the practice with bright eyes and wide smiles. 

Hoseok seems to notice you staring curiously at the solo watchers because he leans over to whisper something in your ear. 

“Those are some of Jungkook’s fangirls,” Hoseok explains, subtly gesturing to a few. “I recognize that one. And that one. And the one over there too.” 

You snort. “Seems like you’re also one of Jungkook’s fangirls if you can point some of them out so easily.” 

Hoseok chokes, taken aback by your analysis. He recovers quickly however. “Hell yeah I’m one of Jungkook’s fangirls. And I actually get to sit with him at lunch.” He winks. 

You groan, rolling your eyes. “Cocky as ever, I see.” 

The pair of you continue walking until you reach a more secluded area of the stands, less occupied by other students, so you and Hoseok can continue to converse amongst each other. 

“Not cocky enough, apparently,” Hoseok notes quietly, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat and looking out to watch the Quidditch practice. Up ahead, Jungkook performs some sort of twirl—a movement you aren’t super familiar with given that you aren’t the biggest observer of Quidditch technicalities. But it seems impressive, if the little shrieks and screams coming from the fangirls’ Hoseok pointed out to you are anything to go by. “You agreed to still tutor me even after calling me out on my bullshit.” 

You laugh. “Well, I would argue that me calling you out made you less of a cocky person.” You turn to him, nudging his arm with your own. “I never got to bring this up, but you’re actually a good student and you’re actually really good at studying. I didn’t know you were holding back on me, Jung.” 

Hoseok hums. “Not even.” He goes quiet for a moment, lacing his fingers together at his lap. “Well, I’m sure you know my family.” 

You snort. “As if. I probably expose that fact to people at least three times a day—!” 

Hoseok’s eyes glint. “Wait, you’re the reason I get auror-hopefuls coming up to me at random intervals of the day?” 

“Uh…” You trail off. “You know what, never mind about that. Keep going, you know, you and your family and stuff. Sounds like you were going in an interesting direction.” 

His glare softens the more he looks at you. “Well, coming from such an impressive family, honestly I never saw myself as someone who needed to apply himself. Things were always just sort of… handed to me, I guess? I grew up with Jungkook—I took him to his first Quidditch match actually. And then we just took more people into our group. Anyways, since things were handed to me, it just feels like I never have to try so hard because rewards were always the expectation.” 

You nod slowly. “That’s why you poured hiccough sweet over my breakfast food when I refused to tutor you.” 

He nods back, surprisingly acknowledging his past prank on you. “Yeah but since you’ve been cool about helping me out, it feels different. No one in my family has ever praised me or told me that I did a good job on something. So having you around fills me with pride. It’s getting to my head honestly, so you might need to stop otherwise I’ll revert back to my old ways.” 

Realizing that he’s slowly transcending back into his arrogant mode, you scoff and roll your eyes as you look away from him. “How about you just use your common sense and stop yourself before that happens.” 

Hoseok blinks. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.” 

You make a face at him. “I’m always being serious.” With that, you turn your attention back to the practice session in front of you, missing the way Hoseok stares at you before smiling to himself and fixing his own attention back on the flying broomsticks ahead. 

.

One week before the next potions exam, you tell Hoseok to meet you along the edge of the Forbidden Forest where you are waiting with a textbook and a task in your mind. Hoseok shows up moments after you’ve gotten settled. The boy is all bundled up in a scarf and a long coat—all prepared to fight the winter weather that is threatening to overtake the school. 

You smile at his arrival. “Hello, Jung Hoseok.” 

Despite the layers that Hoseok is sporting, he still finds himself shivering slightly from the cold that seems to pass through him like nothing. “Aren’t you cold? What the fuck are we doing out here?” 

You shrug half-heartedly, a smirk dancing across your lips. “Oh I’m fine. See, I like to come prepared.” And prepared you are, with your thick fluffy scarf, fur-lined coat, and beanie that covers your ears. “This is a metaphor for our lives.” 

“No it’s not.” Hoseok deadpans across from you. 

You ignore him. “But alas!” You continue, opening your arms out wide for him. “The potions exam is one week away. Are you ready?” 

Hoseok presses his lips together, giving you a shrug. “I don’t know, probably, I guess—!” 

“Wrong answer!” You interject. “You should be ready. Do you realize how much time we’ve both put aside for this moment? Have more confidence!” 

“Is that why we’re out here?” He grumbles. 

You sigh after a moment, lowering your arms and leveling Hoseok with a glance. “No, that confidence should have been second nature to you by now. We’re here because I want to give you one final test.” 

“Oh.” Hoseok seems to straighten up at the mention of a final measurement to see how much he’s learned thus far. “Okay…” He ponders this for a moment before settling back down—probably just to acknowledge to himself that this was actually happening. “What kind of test?” 

You untuck your copy of Advanced Potions Making from under your arm and wave the book at him. “A finding test. This is really important, not just for Professor Slughorn’s exams but for the N.E.W.T.s as well. I like to kill two birds with one stone. I want you to find the ingredients for a potion of my choice. The one I’ve picked should make it easy for you to access the ingredients around this area—that is, if you know where to look.” 

“Okay… okay….” Hoseok replies, shifting the gears of focus in his mind, mentally preparing for the challenge. “What potion am I working for?” 

You smile at his question. “Elixir to Induce Euphoria, if you please.” 

Hoseok ponders that potion deeply for a second before he looks over at you. “When can I start?” 

Your grin widens. “Now.” 

So Hoseok runs off to gather the materials, to search high and low if necessary to find what he is looking for. You imagine that the ingredients necessary must be engraved in his mind, since this particular elixir is something the pair of you have just recently gone over in your tutoring sessions. Based on the reading you were both doing on the elixir, you know that all the ingredients could be found within the forest—albeit, the difficulties could be found from not knowing the specific flower to pick or which trees produce which kind of leaves. In the wintertime, with everything as bare as it is, it adds a level of challenge in identification. 

Yet, you are still confident in Hoseok’s abilities. The book knowledge he’s gained from the readings and the random quizzes you’ve had together definitely leave you with the sense that a practical test is fully possible considering how much progress he’s made. 

Hoseok comes back within twenty minutes, fingers clasped around the various goods and materials he has collected from the forest. 

You hold out your hands to inspect the ingredients, but Hoseok doesn’t hand them over right away. He holds them back, bringing the materials closer to his body. “Hold on,” He says. “I should tell you how to use the ingredients right? I’m sure that would be part of a test.” 

You think about this. “Fair point,” You agree, but you still hold your hand out. “Here, you can just give things to me in the right order.” 

Hoseok nods, looking down to sort through the various ingredients before he’s lifting up the first. “First, you add shrivelfig.” He holds up a purple fruit, roughly the size of his palm. “Originally from Abyssinia, but it’s an aggressive root allowing it to grow anywhere. I’m guessing that’s why Hagrid and Professor Sprout made a magically controlled garden for them near his hut.” He puts the fruit down into one of your open palms. “Next, add some porcupine quills—from porcupine, naturally.” He puts the few spines he has collected carefully into your hand. “Then you…” He searches his mind, finally snapping his fingers when he finds his answer. “Right, you stir four times in an anti-clockwise motion.” 

You watch him carefully, the corner of your lips turning up as you feel that rush of excitement and pride starting to take over you. He’s getting it all right so far. 

Seeing your smile, he continues. “The possible side effects of the elixir of induced euphoria include excessive singing and nose-tweaking so to combat that you should add a spring of peppermint right here…” He places the spring of peppermint in your open palm. “Add sopophorous beans… and finally some wormwood.” He, to your surprise, produces a tiny flask. 

Your eyes widen at the sight. “I-Is that where you put the wormwood?” 

The wormwood part of the ingredient is actually derived from the wormwood plant, meaning that there was a certain level of extraction required to gather this particular material. Knowledge that Hoseok had to put an extra level of thought into acquiring the wormwood makes your smile only grow wider. You don’t even have half the mind to ask where he got the flask. 

Hoseok gives you a tentative look. “D-Did I get it?” 

“You did!” You exclaim, throwing the ingredients up into the air and out of your hands. You start bouncing in place, unable to contain your excitement. “Y-You exceeded my expectations, and the fact that you wanted to tell me the process and you had a storage container for the wormwood plant? That just blows my mind right now!” The fact that Hoseok has gone from someone who once refused to pick up his own textbook to someone who voluntarily wanted to relay information from you, to someone who has become so prideful and confident about the straight facts he’s ripped for you—it gets to you. 

So much so that without warning, you find yourself cupping his cheeks and kissing him right at the corner of his mouth. 

The reality hits you as the icy cold realization washes through your veins. You back up immediately, holding your hands out as your heart takes to pounding as loud as it can in your chest. What the fuck did you just do? It was a spur of the moment reaction, sure, but again, what the fuck? 

Hoseok looks just as shocked as you, looking across with equally wide eyes at what has just transpired. 

Quickly, the humiliation floods through you. “O-Oh my god Hoseok I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” You brush off, taking a few necessary steps backwards and trying to wave off the previous action with your hand—as if something like that is even possible. 

Hoseok snaps out his trance quickly, leveling you with an unreadable gaze. “Hey, no, it’s okay—!” 

“No, no, it’s not okay,” You interject, feeling yourself start to spiral slightly as you run a hand through your hair. “That was such an unwanted advancement on you. I just… I don’t know what happened.” 

Hoseok becomes a little bolder at that, stepping towards you. “Y/N, I said it’s fine, I—!” 

“You don’t need to say anything,” You cut in again, giving him a tight smile. “I’m already embarrassed enough as it is—no need to chew me out for doing something stupid.” Without looking to see his next reaction, you kneel down to gather the ingredients (and the flask of wormwood) into your hands. You don’t make eye contact with Hoseok as you practically shove the materials into his chest. “Y-You did really well, I’m confident you’ll pass the upcoming test for sure.” You continue to stare at the ground. “I’ll, uh, see you around then.” 

Without waiting for him to say anything—for him to reject you—you run off, knowing that this time, you yelling into a pillow or crying will be for something entirely different from frustration. 

. 

Hoseok doesn’t see you until the potions exam, and even then you are a blur of robes and colors as you shuffle past him and into your seat right in front of him. Before he even has half the mind to reach over and talk to you, Professor Slughorn passes out the exams and the class is reduced to complete silence. 

You hand your test in before Hoseok even reaches the last page. 

But when Hoseok turns in his exam, he is confident—which is an emotion that doesn’t usually accompany him in these types of situations. The fact that he knows all of this confidence came from you only widens the gap of loneliness he feels when he knows he won’t be able to celebrate the completion of the exam with you. 

Professor Slughorn eyes Hoseok carefully as he takes the exam from him. “Why don’t you come by tomorrow to see your grade, Mr. Jung, so you can act accordingly.” 

Hoseok nods, ignoring the way his heartbeat is pounding through his ears. “Of course, professor.” 

That night, he sits in the Three Broomsticks, surrounded by friends but feeling alone. Not even Park Jimin, who lifts up a glass of his butterbeer in congratulatory graces, can shift Hoseok into Party Mode. So much so that Hoseok excuses himself from the restaurant to linger outside and dig his feet into the snow. 

He’s wandered off for so long that he isn’t surprised by Jungkook exiting the restaurant to check up on him. The latter boy shivers slightly, hands digging themselves into his coat pocket as he runs up to his friend. “Hey, everything okay?” He asks, tilting his head, big doe eyes watching his friend curiously. 

Hoseok regards Jungkook momentarily before he’s looking back out at nothing. “Yeah, I just have a lot on my mind.” 

Jungkook hums. “I thought you’d be happy. You’ve dedicated so much time to studying for that potions exam, after all. I really imagined that you would be through the roof. Maybe you’d celebrate with that girl who’s been tutoring you. I saw you guys show up to my Quidditch practice game that one time, it seemed like you were pretty close.” 

Hoseok huffs. “Well, I thought we were. I don’t know.” 

Jungkook tilts his head. “You want to talk about it?” 

So Hoseok talks. Only for a little, as to not bore Jungkook with useless details like the color of your eyes or the prettiness of your smile. He sticks to a storyline, discussing the nature of your relationship—starting from the arguments, going through his apology, and ending on your kiss. “She started apologizing like crazy,” He continues. “And going off on how uncalled for it was for her to do that. I was surprised, sure, but I wasn’t opposed to kissing her! Or her kissing me for that matter. But I tried to tell her and I guess she thought I was gonna reject her? Anyways that’s when she left and I saw her for a bit during our potions exam, but she seems hell bent on ignoring me.” He looks over at Jungkook, gauging for a reaction or even just a piece of advice. 

Jungkook remains silent, lips pressed together. 

Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Nevermind. I forgot you’re a womanizer and don’t need to worry about this kind of stuff.” 

Jungkook pouts. “When you put it like that…” 

Hoseok ignores him, choosing instead to straighten up into a standing position. “Anyways, let’s go back inside.” 

.

The following day, as Hoseok is heading towards the dungeons to get his exam score from Professor Slughorn, he spots you sitting at one of the open window sills with Sana. Blame his sixth sense for being able to detect your position, but his feet move before his brain can. One second, he’s standing at the edge of the hallway, and the next second he’s standing in front of you and Sana. 

Sana parts her lips in greeting, the smile ever-present across her lips. “Hey Hoseok—!” 

“I need to talk to you,” He interrupts, reaching for you until he’s grabbing your wrist. Without warning, he hauls you up and drags you up onto your feet. Ignoring your flabbergasted expression, he pulls you down the hallway into a secluded corner. Most of the general area lacks people and footsteps, but he prefers the privacy. 

He doesn’t even realize you’re trying to yank out of his grasp until he drags you forward to stand in front of him. Noticing your struggle, he lets go of you immediately. He manages a quiet apologize, one that you don’t notice because you are already opening your mouth to argue. “Are you crazy?” You shout. “Do you just always go around interrupting people’s conversations and being rude to my friends? Did you take some crazy pills this morning?” 

“Yah!” Hoseok cuts in. “I wouldn’t have had to do that if the person I’m trying to talk to wasn’t actually a child who thinks avoiding me can retroactively erase a month’s worth of interactions!” 

“I’m not trying to erase anything!” You argue back. Hoseok gives you a look, and you retreat slightly. Only slightly. “Intentionally, anyways,” You mutter. “But okay fine! What does it matter to you anyways? I’m embarrassed alright! I did something uncalled for and I wanted the ground to swallow me whole but I couldn’t do that so just being away from you seemed like the next best thing.” 

Hoseok maintains his glare on you. “Why would you be embarrassed?” 

You look like you want to snap his neck. “Because!” You start, voice initially loud and projecting clearly through the halls. You lower your voice into a hiss. “Because I kissed you,” You grit out between your teeth. “And just exposed the fact that I kind of like you now—!” 

“Okay but,” Hoseok interrupts. “I really like you too. And I didn’t mind that you kissed me.” 

You stop short, craning away from him. “Wait, what?” 

Hoseok gives you a small smile, but he diverts his gaze as to not embarrass himself fully. “I think you’re cool. And you would have heard me say that yesterday if you hadn’t run away like a dumbass!” 

Your face feels hot suddenly. “Hey, you were just staring at me! How else was I supposed to react!” 

“You had kissed me when I wasn’t expecting it! Sorry for trying to process things like a normal person!” He snaps back. 

You pout. “You should have run after me then. I felt like shit all day yesterday!” 

Hoseok makes a face back at you. “I’m not a mind-reader, how was I supposed to know that?” 

You sigh at that, bringing your fingers up to press against the bridge of your nose. “Okay, okay. At this rate, this argument will go back and forth for years.” 

“Sure,” Hoseok relents, backing away for a moment. “But I’m not a mind-reader.” 

You clench your hands at your side. “Fine, fine, I got it. I shouldn’t have run away, but—!” You raise a hand up to point a finger at him. “You should have been more transparent about your feelings!” With a huff, you lower your arm back down and cross them over your chest. “Anyways, uh…” You glance over at him, raising an eyebrow as you try really hard to keep the smirk from taking over your lips. “You like me too, huh?” 

Hoseok purses his lips out, also trying to hide his smile. “Maybe.” 

You start laughing, twirling your hair around your finger. “What was that, Jung Hoseok?” 

He glares. “Actually, what I need to tell you isn’t that important.” 

“No, no, c’mon,” You say, reaching out to latch around his arm. “Tell me.” 

Whether it’s the pout in your voice or the glint in your eyes daring him to refuse you, he relents. “I’m going down to the dungeons right now—Professor Slughorn offered to grade my test early so I could, uh, prepare any next steps. I was just wondering if you’d like to come with me.” 

Your gaze softens. “Yeah, I’ll go with you. Let me just let Sana know what’s up.” 

You make a quick detour back to Sana, still sitting at the windowsill, but she nods when you update her on the situation. Together, you and Hoseok make your way down the hallways and towards the dungeon. Hoseok doesn’t even realize how nervous he is until he reaches the steps leading downwards and his heart is thrumming to its own beat. 

You notice, because of course you do. “Hey,” You call softly, reaching over to take his hand. You squeeze it in your own. “You’ve prepared so hard for this. If you don’t get an Outstanding, I will go up to Professor Slughorn myself and tell him to stick his grading up his ass.” 

Knowing that you’re just trying to reassure him, he gives out an airy laugh of appreciation. “Thanks.” He squeezes your hand back before letting go. “I’m going in now,” He says, taking the stairs down towards his destiny. 

Professor Slughorn is in the dungeons when Hoseok pushes open the room—the older man is at his desk at the front of the classroom, papers folding from one pile to another on its own. With every sheet of paper that settles in front of Professor Slughorn, there’s a few movements of his quill, before the paper moves on to its next pile. Overall, a very efficient system. 

Professor Slughorn looks up at the sound of the door. “Ah, Mr. Jung. I was wondering when you were going to come in.” For a greeting, the statement is much too passive and neutral for Hoseok’s liking. Any indication of Hoseok passing or failing the test doesn’t shine through at all. “Well come in, come in. I have your exam ready.” 

Gulping, Hoseok steps deeper into the classroom, the heels from his shoes clacking against the stone floor. As soon as he approaches the desk, Professor Slughorn draws his wand and a single wave is required to have an envelope move from one corner of the table into Hoseok’s awaiting hands. 

“Best if you review your score outside, if you please,” The professor interjects, doing absolutely nothing to raise Hoseok’s confidence. The man hardly even spares him a glance as Hoseok turns around and exits the classroom—strangely filling like a dog with a tail tucked between his legs. 

You’re waiting near the stairs when Hoseok exits, and you’re all ears and attentive stares as Hoseok reaches the top. “So? What happened?” At Hoseok’s solemn expression, your gaze hardens. “Alright, I’m talking to the professor.” 

He stops you by tugging harshly at the sleeve of your robes. “I haven’t opened it yet.” 

You stop in your trail, eying the envelope. “Well then, take a glance!” 

With one final sigh, Hoseok looks down and tears open the parchment. He pulls out the script from inside—the paper with his exam grade. The red letters dance across the paper, the words PASS written next to Potions Examination. His eyes trail further down to see the ranking of his grade, to see if his hard work has paid off… 

On the bottom, written in Professor Slughorn’s fancy cursive: 

Classification: Outstanding

Hoseok jolts, his whole body moving backwards momentarily as if the words from the paper have slipped out to slap him across the face. He reads the single word once more, twice more, before he’s looking up at you with the widest grin. “Outstanding,” He relays. 

And you’re moving towards him at once, jumping up and down until you’re wrapping your arms around his neck. Hoseok doesn’t even care for the suddenness of the gesture, instead wrapping his arms around your midsection and lifting you up into the air. “Jung Hoseok!” You’re gasping out, pulling away from him to place your hands on his shoulders. “You did it!” 

“Hhhhholy shit,” Hoseok replies back, placing you back onto the ground but moving his hands to your waist instead. He sees you in front of him, bright eyed and full smiles with all teeth. “Thank you so much, I wouldn’t have done this without you.” One of his hands moves up to cup your cheek. “I could kiss you right now!” 

Your grin widens. “Should have done that yesterday too, Jung.” 

The smile slips off Hoseok’s face. “You’re really gonna bring that up against you son of a bitch—!” 

You lean forward and kiss him. It’s just a peck, a press of your lips against his own, but your lips are so soft that he cannot help but lean forward himself as you pull away as quickly as you had come in. That grin is back on your lips. “I did say too,” You say with a twinkle in your eyes. 

Hoseok almost rolls his eyes, before the door to the dungeons opens and you both hear a voice sound from the bottom. 

“I look forward to seeing you in class tomorrow, Mr. Jung,” Professor Slughorn calls, waving towards the pair of you—that smile finally pasted across his face. “Hopefully with a much better attitude from now on.” 

You and Hoseok step away from each other, but Hoseok doesn’t let you go too far as he draps an arm around your shoulder. “Oh don’t worry professor,” He replies, looking down at you for a moment. “My girlfriend will make sure of that.” 

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 9 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren was groggy with lack of sleep the next morning, but an evening’s contemplation of the Lan sect’s rules had put him back into the right mindset.

As a disciple of the Lan sect, he was entitled under the rules for his elders to remember do not disrespect your juniors just as he was required to respect and obey your elders. Pursuant to the rules, he should have the protection of his sect and their support, and if what he had was imperfect, it was at least something; for every Lan Ganhui that mocked him, there was a Lan Yueheng that encouraged him, and there were plenty of teachers that preferred him over all the others.

As for his brother – Lan Qiren should not hold his anger against him. He had been acting in the best interest of the sect, seeking to obtain benefits for what had been lost; he had thought throughout the trip that Lan Qiren had given up more than just his word of honor, but had refrained from punishing him accordingly. In the end, even his father had assigned him only to kneel, which was a milder punishment by far than he deserved for all his mistakes and insolence.

More than that, his brother was right: Wen Ruohan would be bound by his own word of honor and public reputation to treat Lan Qiren with dignity, and by endorsing the relationship rather than rejecting it, his sect was indicating that they would hold Wen Ruohan to his word. His father had appropriately expressed concern on Lan Qiren’s behalf, his brother had refuted those concerns with well-reasoned logic; it was inappropriate for Lan Qiren to take such an intellectual discussion to heart.

That he had – and that he had forgotten, even temporarily and in the privacy of his own head, the rule do not argue with family for it does not matter who wins – was merely evidence once again that Lan Qiren was inferior to his brother, who through keeping a cool head had enabled their sect to turn what could have been an embarrassment into a victory.

As for his father…Lan Qiren shouldn’t have been surprised, that’s all. Hadn’t years and years taught him that fathers only gave what they chose to give and no more? He had long ago learned that his father was kind and noble and equitable, concerned with all the Lan sect disciples (but for his dearly beloved eldest) in the same way and the same manner; being disappointed to receive that and nothing more was only his own foolishness.

(He only wondered, in passing, why it had been his father’s glacial voice that had scared him so, compared to the familiar warmth of his brother’s anger.)

So fortified and reassured, Lan Qiren returned to the regular flow of daily life at the Cloud Recesses.

It was not easy. As his brother had predicted, rumors about his sworn brotherhood with Wen Ruohan sprang up at once, and many of his fellow disciples were prone to staring at him when they thought he wouldn’t notice. The teachers handed out many punishments for breaking the prohibition about talking behind people’s backs, although with a certain leniency that made Lan Qiren suspect that they themselves toed the line of that particular rule behind closed doors.

The rumors themselves were split between those that theorized that Wen Ruohan had used nefarious means to entrap Lan Qiren and force him to agree to brotherhood – the Fire Palace was mentioned often, as were various theoretical misapplications of cultivation techniques of dark and unsavory natures – and those that skipped over the how of brotherhood and went straight to speculating as to the why, which typically also involved a variety of references to misapplied cultivation techniques, this time of the sort most often found exclusively in certain types of low-brow spring books.

Someone even suggested that Wen Ruohan intended on taking Lan Qiren to bed as a cauldron, which was the stupidest idea out of the whole lot.

“Of course that can’t be true,” Lan Qiren patiently explained to Lan Yueheng, who had come to collect his geometry book. As a gesture of thanks for his support, Lan Qiren had read the whole thing and sent an annotated list of questions and comments; Lan Yueheng had practically turned pink with excitement when he’d seen it and then secluded himself for two days to write a response. Lan Qiren still didn’t see the appeal of geometry, but he’d managed to coax Lan Yueheng into a discussion of the mathematics of music theory, an area in which their particular interests overlapped, and he had hope of a fruitful dialogue continuing into the future. “At least traditionally, cauldrons are individuals with high cultivation potential that has yet to be developed – raw natural talent, in other words, which can then be refined into strength for another. My inborn talent is only moderate, even low, and my progress is primarily due to good resources and hard work. So even if someone put in the work to make me a cauldron, they wouldn’t get much out of me.”

Lan Yueheng nodded, his brow wrinkled thoughtfully. “So your brother would’ve been a better cauldron than you.”

“…that is correct, but please don’t say it.” Lan Qiren quietly pitied Lan Yueheng’s etiquette teachers, and spared a thought to hope that his cousin’s children, should he have them, would take more after whoever he married than him. Even if only because Lan Qiren hoped to become a teacher himself one day, and he was sure that Lan Yueheng’s particularly brash and un-Lan-like bluntness would make for a terrible future student. “Perhaps it would be more helpful for you to think of it in the sense of energy transfers of heat? I’m already cold, so to speak, so he wouldn’t be able to draw out much heat from me.”

“Wait, if you’re cold and Sect Leader Wen is hot, would that make him the cauldron? Assuming you ever did dual cultivate.”

Lan Qiren pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s...not how that works, Yueheng-xiong. At all. I was merely attempting to use a metaphor to clarify the issue. Clearly I failed and only confused things further.”

Lan Yueheng shrugged. “At least you try,” he remarked. “And when you fail, you try again, doing something different. It’s better than the teachers who just do the same thing every time and blame you for being as bemused on the seventh repetition as you were on the first.”

Lan Qiren felt his ears go red at the compliment. “You’ve been here too long,” he reminded his cousin. “Your parents won’t be happy to see you spending too much time with me.”

“My parents don’t care. It’s my aunt and uncle who don’t like it. They say that people might start asking if I cultivate as a cauldron too –”

“Your parents listen to your aunt and uncle, so if they don’t like it, you shouldn’t disobey them. The rules say Be a filial child.”

“They also say Do not form cliques to exclude others, but that isn’t stopping the other disciples from playing favorites, is it?”

That was definitely one of the rules more honored in the breach, Lan Qiren thought with a sigh. But what could be done, when their elders did the same? The sect followed the example of its leader, and his father’s tendency towards favoritism were well known, albeit one that was widely indulged as a quirk rather than condemned as a serious flaw. 

“I will remind the teachers of that one,” he said. “Perhaps a refresher would be suitable, to remind people. But the rule are meant for your own discipline, not others, and – ”

“Just because other people aren’t following the rules doesn’t mean I shouldn’t, I know,” Lan Yueheng said with a sigh of his own. “I’ll go…oh! It’s getting late. Weren’t you supposed to go to the guest’s pavilion by the western watchtower already?”

Lan Qiren blinked. “I don’t have that patrol route in my schedule until the end of the week.”

“No, no! I was supposed to tell you! Lao Nie’s come to visit, and –”

There were rules against running in the Cloud Recesses, so Lan Qiren was slightly late despite his best efforts, but true to form Lao Nie didn’t admonish him: he only turned from where he was sitting in the pavilion and smiled, calling out, “Qiren! There you are!”

“Forgive –”

“Forgiven,” Lao Nie interrupted before Lan Qiren even got the first word out. Lan Qiren was relieved to see that there was neither food nor tea already prepared; he would have been mortified if it had grown cold while Lao Nie was waiting to see him. “And don’t bow, either. How have you been? Tell me people aren’t harassing you over the nonsense with Hanhan.”

Lan Qiren opened his mouth, then hesitated.

“Do not tell lies,” Lao Nie observed, grimacing. “Ah, Qiren! Sometimes your brother’s worse than useless. It’s a pity, really, I hadn’t realized – well. At any rate, I’ve been bothering him for weeks to tell me about you and he wouldn’t say a word.”

“He was angry at me for messing up the conference,” Lan Qiren explained.

Lao Nie’s eyebrows arched. “You mean the conference where the Lan sect got first place in both major events and then extracted serious concessions from the Wen sect in a completely unexpected and nearly inexplicable political coup that got the whole cultivation world talking in awe at your political acumen? That conference?”

“I lost face for him. He thought – well, he’d thought it was worse than it was,” Lan Qiren hesitated. “He’s not the only one.”

Lao Nie huffed. “People are, by and large, stupid,” he declared. “Don’t let them get to you. They’ll change their tune soon enough.”

Lan Qiren wasn’t so sure. “They say a reputation is like a porcelain vase,” he said, unable to conceal his worries in the face of someone actually expressing concern rather than curiosity. His dream was to be a traveling cultivator, and that would be much easier with a good name, which he had always had before – good, or at least boring, which was just fine with him. He preferred to be boring! It had never occurred to him that he might do something that would render him the subject of gossip; it had never happened before. “Once cracked…”

“Right now, there’s only some bored people speculating that there might be a crack,” Lao Nie said. His confidence was contagious; Lan Qiren couldn’t help but relax a little in the face of it. “No one’s actually sure about it, and they’re willing to hear otherwise – things aren’t yet so bad. Don’t worry. I’ve spoken with Hanhan about it already.”

Lan Qiren felt his ears burning in shame. “Lao Nie! You didn’t!”

Especially since that would undoubtedly only make Wen Ruohan even more angry…

Lao Nie laughed and put his hand on his head, rubbing it lightly. “I did. Not in your name, but rather his own – do you think the Wen sect wants to get a reputation for being led by a man with an unhealthy interest in noble-born children? It’s in his interest to get this cleared up as much as you.”

Lan Qiren felt the tension rush out of his shoulders all at once. That hadn’t occurred to him, but now that Lao Nie had pointed it out, it was clear enough.

After all, for all the talk going around about Lan Qiren, it was widely agreed that he was clearly the victim in whatever scenario they’d thought up, whether through having his oath extracted under torture or by force; even among those who theorized that Wen Ruohan intended to use him as a cauldron, the reputation Lan Qiren might get would be, at worst, that of a seductive flirt who couldn’t be resisted. Lan Qiren’s brother had scoffed audibly the first time he’d heard that, saying that such a rumor would naturally be dispelled the moment anyone came in contact with Lan Qiren for more than a moment, and in all honesty Lan Qiren agreed with his assessment. He had the classic Lan sect looks, yes, but so did many others, and he had a demeanor as stern as a schoolmaster, giving off the feel of an old man even though he wasn’t even of age.

Meanwhile, for Wen Ruohan, the consequences were undoubtedly more dire – if he was said to have a taste for boys, especially noble-born ones, the other sects might be afraid to send their sons around him. It was a different reputation by far than his taste for torture, or his supposed use of dark and forbidden cultivation; those would make people fear him, while lusting for children would only make people disdain him.

Still, Lan Qiren wasn’t sure how exactly even someone of Wen Ruohan’s cunning would go about fixing such a mistake – and that was putting aside why he would make such a mistake over Lan Qiren in the first place. He hadn’t had a chance to explain to his brother his theory that Wen Ruohan had acted just to irritate Lao Nie, and in the end he’d decided it wasn’t worth drawing his brother’s attention back to the subject.

Besides, if Lan Qiren could figure it out, with his notorious inability to understand interpersonal affairs, then surely his brother was more than able to do the same. It wasn’t as if Lao Nie were being shy about it…

“Hanhan said he had something in mind,” Lao Nie was saying, shaking his head. “He usually does, I find, and each idea’s more awful than the next.”

Lan Qiren shifted a little from one foot to the other. “If you know he’s awful, why do you…” he hesitated. “I mean, you call him – an endearment.”

“Oh, he’s a little awful, no doubt,” Lao Nie said, sounding rather fond. “But as long as it’s not my sect, what do I care? Anyway, Qiren, you shouldn’t worry. If there’s one thing you can trust with Hanhan, it’s that he takes care of anything associated with himself.”

Lan Qiren didn’t really like the fact that he was now counted among that number.

It didn’t seem all that safe.

“Though of course that doesn’t protect him from you,” Lao Nie added, suddenly smirking, and Lan Qiren blinked owlishly at him. “Apparently, you’re a very talkative drunk.”

Lan Qiren’s face burned red.

“And effusive, too! According to Hanhan, even after you forced him down in his seat to keep listening to you, you kept waving your hands around while you were talking and knocking things over; he had to pin you down to keep you from destroying things by accident.”

That would explain the marks on his arms.

“Apparently, you didn’t appreciate him doing that and kneed him right in the –”

“You really think he can make the rumors go away?” Lan Qiren hastily interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck a little as if it would make the heat of hideous embarrassment go away. That tallied up a little too well with the physical evidence to be anything other than accurate. “There’s – a lot of them. And I’d like to have a clean reputation.”

“You will,” Lao Nie said, thankfully distracted from his mortifyingly plausible story. “Anyone who meets you will know at once that you’re a righteous and upstanding person.”

Lan Qiren liked that better than the way his brother had put it.

“It’s just that you haven’t had a chance to make your name in the cultivation world,” Lao Nie said. He sounded sure of himself. “You’ll do wonderful things one day, Qiren. I’ve no doubt.”

“I don’t want to do wonderful things,” Lan Qiren said, scowling. “I just want to travel around and help people.”

“Yes, I know,” Lao Nie said, and he sounded fond again, just the way he did when he was talking about Wen Ruohan, or even Lan Qiren’s brother. Truly, Lan Qiren thought to himself, the Nie sect had no idea how lucky they were to have him as sect leader. “Really, Qiren, it’s like I said: don’t worry about it. Now come, tell me what you’ve been studying recently.”

Lan Qiren had promised himself that he would reduce the amount of time he spent with Lao Nie on his occasional visits to the Lan sect, not wanting to risk inciting Wen Ruohan’s unreasonable anger and jealousy any further.

He would need to assign himself an appropriate punishment for breaking that promise, he thought, and sat down to start telling Lao Nie all about the work he was doing with one of his teachers on comparing the origin points of the various Lan sect rules, as well as his experiments on arrays to enhance open-air acoustics that would, he hoped, eventually be inscribed on all Lan sect instruments to increase the range and impact of their spell songs.

He even mentioned the possibility of a joint project on the mathematics of musical theory, and for whatever reason he thought Lao Nie looked especially pleased about that.

He didn’t think about Wen Ruohan at all.

[blindbeta]

Different anon here! I have a character who's blindness is incident related, but it's been several years since then and the story isn't heavily focused on his trauma (or at least that specific trauma, as he has others that aren't related to blindness)

This was before I knew injury-based blindness was a harmful/potentially harmful trope though, so now I'm worried that I'll have to rewrite his backstory entirely to avoid writing about experiences I don't have, or pushing any harmful tropes that are already pushed far too much.

What do you think? Could I still use that as part of his story without focusing too much on that specific traumatic event, or do you think it's better for me to discard it entirely?

The Accident Narrative/Going Blind Through Trauma trope and How to Make It Better - (I’m just calling it that because I don’t know if this thing has a name)

My problem with this trope - and the problem many people have with it- is very specific. I’ll try to break it down for you so it is easier to understand. My problem is basically with the execution.

Characters go blind unrealistically often from traumatic accidents in media. Mainly because it creates a lot of drama, which is fair, if cheap. It is also a good story starter if the story will be about them being all sad that they’re blind. These stories usually focus heavily on the blind part rather than the trauma part, and they paint blindness as the worst thing that can happen to anyone. Including death. Sometimes the character grows out of this feeling and sometimes they don’t.

The way you portray this is what changes the narrative.

I like that your story takes place several years after the incident although how well it is done will depend on the portrayal of the resulting blindness. Blindness can be tough, but avoiding considering the incident a tragedy that ended his vision could help. Not having too much of a woe-is-me attitude toward it will also help. Starting the story years after the incident creates beneficial distance.

With this in mind, the story won’t be - about - him going blind and then adapting and possibly being sad, possibly not sad about it. That would be a type of story that is probably best left to blind people who lost their vision later in life. Your story avoids this issue by starting the story well after the incident occurred. When you said you didn’t want to write about something you hadn’t experienced, to tell a story that wasn’t yours to tell, this is what you want to avoid. If you aren’t writing about going blind/being blind, you’re good, at least for this question.

So, you have avoided writing about the experience of going blind (and having that be the focus of your story) and starting the story at another time so your character can have some distance from his trauma. Your story will not be showing your character tragically losing his sight and learning to adapt. -dramatic sniffle-

The other part of this ask that really works for me is the part about focusing on different traumas. It sounds like the character is going to have more to them, and the idea of the Blindness Trauma being not as significant as other more recent traumas sounds good and true to life. It also takes the focus away from any implications of blindness as particularly tragic and all-encompassing. Your character will expirience different things just as anyone else would. Focusing more heavily on other things in his life is a good idea. That, coupled with the distance from the initial traumatic incident makes it okay with me.

What else can you do?

Here are a few other options for you or other readers who are writing incident-related blindness:

1. Have them focus on the traumatic incident itself rather than the resulting blindness.

Yes, going blind can change your life. It can be scary and someone may need to grieve their vision loss as they would any other major change. However, this doesn’t have to be the dramatic take-up-an-entire story thing either.

If you decided to write flashbacks, you can show the character mostly dealing with trauma, with blindness as a reminder of it. This puts the focus on the traumatic incident itself healing from trauma rather than trying to heal from blindness. When sighted people write about this, it comes out as awkward, not relatable, and impossible to separate voice-type things - like worrying about never being able to marry - from the authors own opinion or worries about blindness.

Focusing on the trauma of say, extreme injury can help with that. It is important to make a distinction for the reader, who usually goes in not knowing much about blindness and conceptualizing it as one of the worst things that could happen to them. Make it as clear as you can that the character is upset due to trauma rather than being devastated their life is over because they are blind.

2. Have the trauma happen off-screen / have them not remember it much due to young age

It sounds like this is also what you’re going to do. You could mention the traumatic incident briefly, without too many dramatic details. A few descriptive sentences should be enough. You could write it for reference and only take a few samples from it you liked. This keeps the focus away from drama for drama’s sake. It also disrupts the usual narrative, putting you farther away from the Accident Narrative or trope. You could simply have had the character be too young to remember much detail.

3. Add more blind characters

This one is good for any story. You should always trace your logic for topics like the one you presented or consider how to do things better, but one easy way to avoid readers thinking all blind people are like your character (which they might), you can add another blind character or more who were born blind or went blind at a very young age. Who don’t struggle with being blind generally. This exposes your readers to more ideas of blind people.

When your story is standing on the line between nuanced character and meeting a stereotype, you should absolutely have at least one other if not a few blind characters. In fact, I would be surprised if a story like this didn’t have other blind characters and, if I were reading this story randomly, I might even feel less forgiving or open to what was different about the Accident Narrative this time.

Thank you for asking this question. It is kind of challenging to answer and I had to rewrite this a few times. Basically, you want to do what you can to disrupt the usual portrayals of blindness because there are actually so few and most are made by people who aren’t blind or even disabled. You cannot make this trope or stereotype go away, but you can try to shake it up. Because this can be done differently, to avoid writing about adapting the tragic blindness, I am ok with this type of story.

I don’t know if this one is harmful exactly, but it is frustrating to see and can certainly lead to some harmful ideas, such as blindness only being tragic even when someone was born blind. I have a review coming up for a book called Blind that might be helpful, as well as a post called Tropes I’m Tired Of that I hope will help. Your ask definitely helped me consider more ways this trope could be made more bearable and concentrate on what exactly I dislike about it.

All that said, this is not a post encouraging people to use this narrative in all their projects. Only if you feel like it is necessary and fits the character. I would like for this trope to be less common than being born blind or going blind in a way that isn’t so dramatic and, possibly, abrupt. When most characters go blind through traumatic accidents it contributes to people’s idea that blindness is not only traumatic for anyone at any age, but also cannot be anything but a tragedy.

I really hope this helps. Of course, I would really encourage a few different sensitivity readers with this story. Just to get different perspectives. There is another blind person who also offers sensitivity reading at @sensitivityreaders and it might help to get them or someone else, in addition to me. Because I would love to read this sometime.

-BlindBeta